


Every Word

by pene



Series: All I ever need is everything [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pene/pseuds/pene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years apart Kurt and Blaine have moved on from one another and built separate lives. Kurt is developing a quiet reputation off-Broadway. Blaine is a fledgling musical theatre writer and producer on the West Coast. </p><p>Then they reconnect - because of the music, because of the theater. Because of course they do. </p><p> </p><p>"This show is Blaine’s baby. The madness is that the only person he can picture in the lead role is a boy he has been failing to forget for six years."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted un-betaed. I owe HUGE thanks to Corinna and the multicorn for making this worlds better.
> 
> This departs from canon somewhere between _The Break Up_ and _I Do_
> 
> **I started writing well before Cory Monteith's death. As far as this story is concerned Finn is alive and the world is a better place.**

Blaine props his chin on one hand and contemplates the stage. The last in a long line of hopefuls finishes his audition with a respectable glory note. Blaine takes a moment to admire his cravat. 

“Thanks for the opportunity,” cravat guy says. Behind him, Savannah, the accompanist, closes the piano and takes her sheet music. Blaine nods to her as she leaves. It’s been a long day. “I hope you’ll remember me,” cravat guy adds. 

“Definitely. We’ll let you know,” says Blaine warmly. Infusing warmth into his voice is as natural as breathing. Blaine is both kind and sincere but not always both at the same time. He might not remember this guy, though he’ll probably remember the cravat. That kind of neck tie takes practice. But there were better auditions – one with truly impressive vocals, a couple of guys with stronger acting resumes. There was no lack of talent. 

The trouble is that Blaine developed this character during two years of creating and writing and arranging music. So of course he has constructed a particular image in his mind. It’s going to be tough to let that image go. 

Beside him at the table Devi tips back in her chair. Wes shuffles through headshots. 

The show is starting so far off Broadway that they’re in San Francisco. It’s Blaine’s very own piece of musical theater. He’s poured his heart into the show, along with his extensive knowledge of popular music from basically forever and the theater music he’s picked up from every theater guy he’s ever dated. Truth is, that’s every guy he’s ever dated with the exception of Hal, who was a short order cook and listened to alt country, which Blaine found a bit depressing. The breakfasts were awesome though. 

“We’ll take another look at number three,” says Wes. 

“I guess,” says Devi to the ceiling. “At least he could sing.”

“But-” prompts Wes. Devi has experience as an assistant director with the American Conservatory Theater. Even Wes has to listen to her. 

Devi lets her chair drop to the floor. “He didn’t show any delicacy. I mean, he has to play a sixteen year old kid as well as an older guy. Look, I’ll keep an open mind. You can give his agent a call.”

“We’re not going to be able to put on a show without a lead,” says Wes as he rustles through papers some more. “I think we should take a look at number twelve too.”

Devi tilts in her chair again. “Really, Wes?”

“What is the problem?” he asks. 

“Look, I won’t argue that he was technically proficient. He just had so little charisma.”

“Did you think anyone was adequate?” 

Devi groans theatrically. 

“Weigh in here at any time, Blaine,” Wes says and Devi elbows Blaine.

“Ouch.” 

“Number twelve?” asks Wes waving the headshot. 

Blaine tilts his head to look at the photo dangled in front of him. “He was fine,” he says. “He lacked the charisma I’d like to see in David.“ 

“Exactly!” says Devi. “I thought you’d side with Wes because he was your schoolboy crush and your very favorite TA. But he was right, you’re a good guy.” 

“Blaine was always a genuinely first-rate kid,” says Wes. Somehow the praise still makes Blaine smile - though obviously he never had a crush on Wes. “What did you think of this most recent guy? With the weird neck scarf.”

“Cravat,” supplies Blaine. He takes a breath, “Look, it’s possible I’m too close to the whole thing but I felt like they were all missing something.” 

He counts it as a victory when neither one of the others rolls their eyes. 

Blaine has written the best thing of his career. Of course, he’s only twenty-four and this is really the third thing he’s completed so there’s not much competition. Still, he’s proud of it. He has some limited financial backing; he has a producer in Wes and a director in Devi. He even has a choreographer and a copyright attorney. Everything is set for success. Or ripe for failure.

And now they’re casting the pivotal role. Blaine sighs wretchedly and drops his head into his arms. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is all heading. He lifts his eyes to look at the others. “I might know the right guy,” he says.

Devi shoots a look at Wes. He nods slowly. “Okay. We’ve got some wiggle room here. A tiny little bit of wiggle room, Blaine.”

“Work your charms, Anderson. He’d better be good,” says Devi.

“He is,” says Blaine.

“Oh ho,” she laughs. 

Blaine doesn’t bother to tell her it’s not like that. 

This show is Blaine’s baby. The madness is that the only person he can picture in the lead role is a boy he has been failing to forget for six years. 

**

Blaine doesn’t have Kurt’s number any more. He does have Sam’s.

“Hey dude,” says Sam cheerfully. “I forgot to tell you that we bought a puppet!” It feels like they last talked yesterday though in reality it was three months ago. 

Blaine smiles into the phone. “Great! How’s the show?” 

“Not just a show, it’s an educational touring performing arts experience. It’s called: Me and You Make We!” says Sam happily. “And bro it is awesome. Yesterday I got to talk to third graders about why their math problems were racist. Also their math teacher.”

“Huh. That is awesome,” says Blaine. 

“We sang it out,” says Sam. “I wore a cape.” He starts singing _Nobody loves a racist, everybody loves the Hulk_ and soon they’re talking San Francisco and Blaine’s musical and Sam’s girlfriend and whether the newly named Lima Heights Hamlet is a real place or some kind of gap in the space-time continuum.

Eventually Blaine gets to the point. “Hey Sam, I need a favor, if you don’t mind. Do you still have Finn’s number?”

“Dude, I didn’t even know I had your number.”

“Look in your phone?”

“Oh, man, I’ll probably hang up on you.” 

“How about if you look and I’ll call you back if you lose me?”

Blaine calls back and Sam has Finn’s number and Blaine’s a step closer to speaking with Kurt than he has been in six years. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt steps into his apartment and lets the door close behind him. He leaves the lights out. It’s late but it’s New York, so the apartment is always steeped in the glow of light pollution through the warehouse windows.  The unnatural orange and gray of the sky reminds him of the rag & bone jeans he bought the week before. He should take a look at them with his Camper boots and the monarch patterned shirt from-

“Kurt! I didn’t hear you come in.” Kurt whips his head toward the couch

“Rachel?” He takes a breath. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Just revelling in the-" she waves a hand vaguely in the air. “It’s New York. My dream town. I think it’s critical to maintaining freshness that at times I just let the city wash over me.”

“I know it’s New York,” says Kurt. “This is my apartment. But – and I hate to be the one to break this to you, Rachel - you don’t live here.”

“I’m aware of that. I know where I live, Kurt. Santana let me in.”

“She did?”

Kurt walks into the kitchen, finds a yogurt and a soygurt in the fridge and hands Rachel the soygurt with a spoon. He mostly buys soygurt on the off chance that eating will interrupt the constant flow of Rachel’s conversation.

Rachel smiles brightly. “I’m in her good books. I introduced her to Amanda Leigh Dunn. She’s basically lesbian royalty.”

“I know who she is, Rachel.”

Kurt perches on the kitchen bench. He sighs internally as he crosses his legs then smiles at her semi-sweetly. “So, welcome. How’s everything? I know you close up on <i>Codename: Diane</i> in a few weeks.”

“Yes, it may be auspicious. The role didn’t exhibit my exceptional range and I was overidentifying with the spy lifestyle. I prefer to be true to myself.”  

Kurt recognizes Rachel’s modes of coping with disappointment. He changes the subject. “How’s Elan?” Rachel moved in with her boyfriend on the Upper West Side six months ago. He’s a junior modern art curator at the Met. As a consequence, Rachel seems to think she has a responsibility to remark on the carefully selected art in Kurt’s apartment. It could be worse; she could be dating a fashion designer.     

“He’s fine,” Rachel says. “They’re making plans for next year’s exhibits. He wants to illustrate the beauty in roadside memorials: floral crosses and graffiti and laminated paper signs – the modern art of senseless death.”

“How stimulating.” Kurt raises his eyebrows.

“But enough about me,” says Rachel. “When do you finish up the show?”

Kurt’s at the end of what is essentially an off-off-Broadway one-man Disney love song show called _My Prince Will Come_. It’s been remarkable - a strange kind of dream. He’s on stage mostly by himself; gossiping about warriors and princesses and princess warriors and rolling his eyes and letting people fall in love with their childhood idea of romance. The small theater has been largely sold out and the show has had some good reviews, in its quiet local way.  And now it’s closing.  

“We can only have the theater until the end of next week,” he says. “We tried to extend but no luck. Some company is doing an Edie Brickell musical next -  _A Smile on a Dog._ ” He rolls his eyes. Eighties and nineties retrospectives are the worst.

Rachel scrunches her face in sympathy.  “Your show is so much better,” she says. Kurt smiles because he knows she’d say that whatever musical was following him. Except maybe _Funny Girl_. Or _A Star is Born_.

“It’s a good show,” he says.  He sighs a little. Now he’ll only perform "A Whole New World" and "Love Will Find a Way " seven more times.

“Finn called me, Kurt,” Rachel says suddenly. “He wanted me to tell you-“

Kurt’s heart stutters. “Dad-“

Rachel is quick to reassure him. “No no. Your dad’s fine. It’s not that at all. But Blaine called Finn looking to talk to you and so in turn Finn called me. Finn thought this was the kind of thing you should ask in person.”

Kurt stares at Rachel, slightly stunned. The last time he heard Blaine’s name it was just Santana messing with Raf’s head. That was months ago. The possibility that Blaine wants to make contact gives Kurt a jolt. It’s not that Kurt avoids the thought of Blaine intentionally. But his life is here and now and he doesn’t dwell on the past.  

Rachel continues. “So Finn sent me over with a score.” She rustles through her bag.

It doesn’t make anything clearer. Kurt eyes the papers in Rachel’s hand warily. “A score,” he echoes.  

“A score for a show Blaine wrote. A stage musical. He asked us to print it but not read it. I haven’t,” she said virtuously. “Not past page three.”

“I don’t understand. He wants me to read it?” Kurt has a horrible thought. “Please tell me it’s not about me.”

“It’s not about you, Kurt,” says Rachel as though she wouldn’t have leaped to the same conclusion if one of her exes had written a musical. “I think he wants you to perform in it.”

“Oh,” says Kurt.

 “It’s good timing,” says Rachel. “You’re just finishing up the Disney show.”

“Yeah,” says Kurt. Blaine always had nice timing. 

“Except that you’re dating Raf.”

“Oh no, Rachel,” Kurt is swift to quash any wild romantic ideas Rachel may be harbouring beneath her newly trimmed bangs. “My having or not having a boyfriend is irrelevant to Blaine.” It’s true. Kurt’s life is what it is. He’s happy in it. And wherever Blaine is living, he probably has a gorgeous boyfriend: some nice and exceptionally talented pop singer from a newly signed band or a prep school boy with aspirations of writing America’s next great road trip novel.

Blaine will always be significant to Kurt. Kurt will never hear of him without a pang. But Kurt has taught himself to live with that: Blaine is merely one bright thread in the ever-expanding tapestry of Kurt Hummel’s existence.

“Thank you for bringing this over, though,” says Kurt. It was good of her to come so far.

“Of course I brought it,” says Rachel warmly. “You’re my best friend.”

She smiles sweetly. Her eyes are soft. It might be partly curiosity that brought her here, but it is also concern. Of all people, she knows what Blaine meant to Kurt.

“But I’ll be going,” she says. “I need to rest my vocal chords for tomorrow and I suspect you want to get on with your beauty regimen.”

Kurt nods. “I’d prefer to do so before Santana returns and wants to use the bathroom for dubious sexual activities. But I’ll walk you to the subway.”

They hug goodbye on the street. Rachel is the second most enthusiastic hugger Kurt has ever met. Third, if he includes his dad.

The moment he is back inside the apartment Kurt unfolds the script.

Despite the years and the distance, it feels alien to read something Blaine wrote, a musical no less, without Blaine’s commentary. This is the kind of thing they’d so often imagined doing together. There’s a brief note. “Please consider auditioning for the role of David.” Blaine’s phone number is printed in the corner of the cover page. Kurt steels himself a little as he starts to read.

It’s been more than six years since Kurt recognized that the only thing more painful than never seeing Blaine was seeing Blaine.

At the time Kurt’s heart was raw. He couldn’t bring himself to reconcile with the boy who’d broken it. And Kurt couldn’t find love with someone else while Blaine’s bright, hopeful eyes were fixed on him. Even more, he didn’t think he could stand watching Blaine find new love himself. So he’d called it all to a close. They’d stopped meeting; they’d stopped calling; they’d stopped emailing and texting and liking things on Facebook pages. They’d rearranged their lives without one another at the center. It worked, in a way. Kurt was in New York. Blaine moved across the country in the opposite direction to study in LA.

Still, it had taken years to feel like there was any light in a room without Blaine there.

Kurt reads the first page. He reaches for his phone and checks the time; types a message.

To Raf: Sorry honey, the show ran late and then Rachel was here (again!) But something potentially exciting has come in. Talk tomorrow x

He heads into his bedroom and sits against the head of his bed to read the rest of Blaine’s show.

It’s the story of David and Jonathan through their meeting as boys, the battle with Goliath and the Philistines and the war with Jonathan’s father, King Saul. It’s the story of two young men fighting together and apart. They’re soul mates and they’re soldiers. It’s sad and beautiful and doesn’t end happily, but it’s also improbably fun. There’s pop music threaded throughout. Kurt laughs when a section of an Adele song is slipped into an original about loving a man who battles giants. He can visualise the scene when Jonathan, the big shot prince, sings Flo Rida in a club and David, the shepherd son of a farmer, flirts daringly. The show is cleverly anachronistic. It is also simply moving.    

At three in the morning Kurt texts the number Blaine left on the script.

To Blaine: It’s incredible, Blaine. Thank you for sending it to me. I need to audition for the role.

Kurt doesn’t know where Blaine is, but it’s midnight anywhere on the West Coast and later elsewhere so he doesn’t expect the almost immediate reply he receives.

From Blaine: Thank you! I really value your opinion (always) - will get Wes to call to set everything up if that’s ok. He’s the producer. Hoping to open here.

To Blaine: Where is here?

From Blaine: Sorry! San Francisco. Will you still go for it?

From Blaine: Please!

From Blaine: No pressure though.

Kurt thinks about the promise in this show, the opportunity to establish himself in a lead role. He thinks too about the things that tie him to New York. It’s unlikely it will be a long run in San Francisco. He might be able to find someone to sublet his apartment, even with Santana in the bargain.

He has earned his happiness here. He has no reason to put it at risk.  But there’s also no reason to believe this is anything but an exciting professional opportunity. And more even than happiness, Kurt wants the chance to excel professionally. More than happiness, he wants to be a star.

To Blaine: Okay. Yes.

There’s no immediate reply. Kurt quickly washes and tones his face. It’s far too late for the full routine; he needs beauty sleep as much as the next person. The incoming message chimes as he walks back from the bathroom.

From Blaine: Thank you so much. I truly believe this can work.

Kurt lies back and turns out the light. In the dark he allows himself to consider what it will mean to be in Blaine’s orbit again. Kurt has never before spent time around Blaine without being head over heels in love. But things change. Kurt has grown up. He’s not that kid any more. He has his life together. He has a boyfriend, he has friends, he has a future that he built alone.

 

**

“Excited?” asks Devi as she arrives at the audition room.

“Sure,” says Blaine agreeably. “About... the Michal auditions?”

“About your boy.”

“My boy?”

“Didn’t Wes tell you? Your boy Kurt is auditioning this session.”

Blaine feels his heart pause. He long ago stopped counting the days since he last saw Kurt. It’s been years since his brain last betrayed him with wishing for something different. And still-

“He’s not my boy,” he says.

Devi laughs a little. “Good to know.”

The eleventh Michal audition is very good. Blaine glances down at her CV to check her name then toward the back of house to confirm that Wes is catching this. He freezes. Kurt is standing in one of the exits. He’s way at the back, silhouetted in the doorway but Blaine would recognize that stance anywhere.

When the audition is finished Blaine smiles and says all the right things. She really did stand out so he can be sincere. “We’ll let you know,” he says. Then he heads quickly toward the back. Kurt meets him halfway.

“Thank you for coming,” says Blaine. It sounds stupidly formal.

Kurt smiles. He seems perfectly composed, though his eyes are bright. “Of course,” he says lightly.

“If I’d known you were arriving, I’d have picked you up at the airport,” says Blaine. “I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t do everything Blaine,” Kurt says, then leans in for a hug.

Blaine grins into Kurt’s shoulder. Under his hands, Kurt feels slender and strong, all mobile muscles under faultless attire. 

“It’s good to see you,” Kurt says.

They both step back and Blaine smiles like it feels safe, like this is simply a long ago friendship they can enjoy rebuilding. He thinks, _I can handle this. We can handle this_. He also thinks _, I can’t believe he’s still so beautiful_.

He walks with Kurt to the table they’ve been using for the auditions. Wes has moved up front and is chatting to Devi. They look up as Blaine performs introductions.

Kurt holds out his hand to Devi first. “Kurt Hummel,” he says to her. He shakes Wes’ hand. “Nice to see you, Wes. I’ll be auditioning for the role of David.”

As Kurt walks up to audition, Blaine sees Devi catch Wes’ eye. They’ve seen the audition tape Kurt sent and Wes knows Kurt from Dalton, yet both look oddly dubious about Kurt in person. For a moment Blaine sees Kurt as they must see him – his fine boned face and slim asymmetrical clothing. He looks precise, maybe a little contrived, and not actually like a warrior king at all. Until now it hadn’t occurred to Blaine that he might be remembering something extraordinary that’s not even there. Until now he’d never considered that Kurt might not be able to do this.

From the stage, Kurt raises an eyebrow. Blaine knows Kurt saw the glance between Devi and Wes and maybe even a flicker of worry in Blaine’s own face.

Kurt has always held himself as though he knows someone is watching. In him, it’s mostly not conceit. Someone has always been watching, for good and for bad. Kurt has never blended in. There’s a vulnerability in it, along with the assuredness that has strengthened with age. 

Savannah starts on the piano and Kurt lifts his chin. He blinks slowly, sets his jaw. Blaine has seen those movements a hundred times – every time Kurt had to fight for something he had decided was rightly his. Blaine allows himself a small smile. Kurt Hummel is about to fight for the role.   

Kurt starts in with a pared down version of _Love is a Battlefield_. It’s gorgeous and amusingly appropriate. He moves into one of the faster songs from the score.

When Kurt sings, Blaine forgets everything he thought about being able to handle this. As a boy of nineteen, Kurt had all the promise of someone who would one day be a star. This man of twenty-five is better than even Blaine, who loved the boy more than life, could have anticipated.

“The score sits right in his sweet spot,” murmurs Wes after a minute.

“Yeah,” says Blaine without looking away from Kurt. Of course it does, Blaine wrote it.  

Kurt shifts between a brave and untested boy child and a worn soldier king. He’s perfect.

 “Oh my God Blaine,” says Devi. “Everyone who sees the show is going to fall in love with him.”

Blaine doesn’t answer. He looks down at the table for a moment because he knows what she says is true and Blaine has never looked at Kurt without his heart in his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

When he’s finished Kurt says an elegant, “Thank you. Thank you”. He tips his head toward them - the curtsey seems to have been refined out of him, which is probably a good thing.

There’s a short awkward pause. Usually Blaine thanks people and sends them on their way.

“We’ll be in touch,” says Wes.

Blaine shakes himself a little and stands. They have a bunch more auditions today and he won’t be free until the evening. He meets Kurt at the bottom of the stairs.

“Remarkable,” he says.

Kurt flushes. “Thank you.”

“You really were.” Blaine avoids gushing with difficulty, pressing his lips together to stop himself smiling too widely. “When do you head back to New York?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Would-... we could have dinner? Though you probably have plans or need to rest. You must be exhausted.”

“I do,” says Kurt. “I do have plans.” He looks apologetic. But the door opens to a twelfth Michal audition and Kurt says goodbye and turns to leave.

 

**

Kurt has successfully navigated San Francisco’s public transport. He props his bag carefully against a lamp post and contemplates the south end of Market Street. There are a few suits with unoriginal ties, a girl dressed like she’s going hiking in the Sierra Nevadas, another in a poodle skirt. A guy catches his eye. He’s wearing pinstripes and a lavender shirt that sits just the right side of old lady.

“Kurt,” says Tina and she’s smiling there in front of him.

“Tina!”

They hug tightly. It has been far too long.

“Let’s put some distance between us and the office,” Tina says. She narrows her eyes in the direction of her building. “I’m pretty sure they can smell if I’m in a two block radius and they’ll try and drag me back up.”

“Oh there’s no way I’m letting that happen,” says Kurt.

“Drink?” says Tina cocking her head. “And you can tell me everything.”

Kurt nods. “How’s law school?” he asks as they walk.

Tina has fallen into law, somehow inspired by a mind-numbing job as a paralegal, summarizing boxes and boxes of depositions by victims of asbestos poisoning.

“It’s hard. I’m surrounded by entitled frat boys and opinionated conservatives,” she says. “Worse, half of them are smarter than I am.” She sighs. “Two more years to go.”

“They won’t know what’s hit them when you’re done,” says Kurt. “Ms. Tina Cohen-Chang, defender of the little guy.”

Tina’s eyes laugh across at him. He wonders if she minds that she’s let go of her high school dreams of performing. Even three years ago he would probably have insisted she was giving up on herself and doing the world a disservice. Perhaps he’s toned down. Theater is a harsh, harsh mistress and even Kurt can admit there are other things of value on the planet.

“Do you want to go somewhere fancy or a hole in the wall?” she asks.

Kurt looks her up and down.

“Sorry, stupid question,” she says. “Cocktails at the Top of the Mark, it is. Then later we’ll drop your bags and meet Tex for dinner.”

“Perfect,” says Kurt. “I want to hear all about Tex before I meet him. You look adorable, by the way. Mod meets old school Tina goth.” She’s wearing a neatly fitted black and white dress. Her hair is blunt, cut at an angle with startlingly blue ends.

“No way was I meeting Kurt Hummel looking less than my best,” she says. “You, of course, look textbook.”

Kurt smiles at her.  

“So, what are you doing on the West Coast?” asks Tina after they’ve settled above the city with martinis.

“There’s a show opening here. Just a script and a score so far but it looks like it’ll be remarkable. I have a good chance of getting a role.”

Tina clasps his hand across the table. “That’s wonderful, Kurt.”

“Yes,” says Kurt. Then in a rush, “The writer-- is Blaine. Blaine wrote it.” Shifting locations and graduating in different years means Tina is the only one of their old friends who remained friends with both of them. They’ve never discussed it.

“Oh.”

“He’s the musical director too so he’ll be involved with the production.”

She watches him. “So you two are back in touch?”

“No. No we’re really not. Not until this came up out of the blue. He invited me to audition.”

“And you’re going to take it.”

Kurt had this conversation with himself over and over on the flight here.

“It might not be offered to me. But I think I’d be mad not to take it. It’s going to be more than good.  In any case, I know we can work together. We’re adults. We’ve moved on. It’s been six years.” Kurt is protesting too much. It’s ridiculous. He’s almost certain what he’s saying is true. He is certain that it has to be. There are several important things involved: Kurt’s career, Blaine’s career and stage show. They cannot afford for long ago matters of the heart to make things difficult.

“Sure,” says Tina. She looks worried.

“What is it?” He feels irritated, though her face only radiates concern.

“I just don’t want either of you getting hurt,” she says.

“We’re fine,” says Kurt, trying to shut the conversation down.

“Maybe. Look-- I really only got a chance to see what it did to him, close up, Kurt. You were gone that year. And he’s Blaine. He looks at a puppy or a cloud shaped like a sandwich and it makes him happy. But underneath that he was miserable for months. I think he was piecing himself together. That break-up changed him.”

“He-“

“I know what he did, Kurt. I just-- before that he thought he could be perfect, at least with you. And he loved you; you were his whole world. He wanted to be this perfect thing for you. But he messed up. Suddenly he was the bad guy. He wasn’t used to that. He had to reassess his whole sense of himself.”

Kurt feels bruised. Because of course Blaine had been perfect. And that was what made their break up wretched. Blaine had been perfect. And gorgeous. And safe, always safe. Small town Ohio had given Kurt no safety, no reason to trust people - and yet Kurt had trusted Blaine. He had learned, early, to be cautious with his heart but he had given Blaine the whole of himself.  

He hates that he has to have this conversation. “It was a long time ago, Tina. And I truly can’t take responsibility for how cheating on me affected Blaine.”

Tina takes a breath and Kurt knows there is more she could say. There’s more Kurt could say but he won’t, not now and maybe not ever to Tina. She relents. “I know. I just want you both to be careful.” There’s a pause and she looks out over the city. “I haven’t seen Blaine for a while. I’ve been caught up with school and he’s been busy. How is he?”

“We didn’t chat much. I auditioned. It seemed to go well. He was in the middle of auditioning another role in the show. But he wanted to get dinner.” Kurt shrugs a little.

“Did you want to?”

“I had plans with my oldest and most fabulous friend.”

Tina wrinkles her brow. “Mercedes isn’t your most fabulous friend?”

“You’re both fabulous.”

“That’s not an answer, Kurt, to either question,” Tina says darkly. “But it’s okay if you wanted to have dinner with Blaine. It might make it easier for you and him to work together if you know you can be in the same room for a meal. Invite him along if you like.”

“I don’t know that I’ll get the role,” says Kurt, though he’s pretty confident. “If I do, I’ll have dinner with-“. His phone rings.

Kurt glances at the display.

“Hi, Blaine,” he answers.

Tina eyes him and mouths something indecipherable.

On the phone Blaine is saying, “We- They loved you, Kurt. I wanted to let you know right away. The role is yours if you want it. I know it’s not much now but I can feel it. We’re going all the way with this.”

Kurt takes a breath. “Of course. Absolutely I want it,” he says. He looks at Tina as Blaine rushes on through timing and rehearsals and the rest of the cast. After a moment Kurt interrupts, “I’m having dinner with Tina and Tex tonight. Tina would love- You’re welcome to join us if you can.”

Blaine doesn’t speak for a second. Then, “Sure. Okay. Sure. Yes.”

***

Blaine walks from the Muni stop to the restaurant Tina and Tex chose. It’s Japanese and tiny; decorated with gaudy paintings of Emperor Hirohito alongside an Elvis clock and a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge with LEDs lighting its bright cables. Blaine smiles to himself as he looks around.

Tina waves brightly. Kurt looks up from a conversation with Tina’s boyfriend. For an instant it feels like the old days, Kurt across the Lima Bean, Kurt across the choir room, Kurt everywhere and those clear eyes catching Blaine’s the moment he entered a room. Blaine can’t hold back his grin. Kurt smiles back.

They order shared plates of agedashi tofu and steamed gyoza and fish wrapped in spinach. Kurt and Tina are bright eyed with a couple of cocktails under their respective belts. Tex orders a beer and Blaine follows suit.  

Blaine likes Tex. It’s hardly a bombshell, Blaine generally likes people. But Tex has a lot going for him. He’s laid back and smart. He can talk at length about looney tunes or his Malay heritage or being an ally of feminism. He’s kind of cute but incredibly scruffy looking which Tina seems not to mind. Most of all he loves Tina and she is relaxed and still bitingly herself with him.

“Kurt says mind-blowing things about your show,” Tex says and Blaine can’t not smile as he meets Kurt’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he says to both of them.

“So, tell us,” says Tina.

Blaine tells them. He’s getting better and better at honing his precious show down to a couple of hopefully engaging sentences.

“It’s a bit Baz Luhrmann,” he finishes. “But less spectacular, more about the singing. And gayer.”

“I’m not certain that’s even possible,” says Kurt, sounding amused. He turns to Tex and Tina. “What impresses me is how moving it is. And he’s using pieces of songs everybody knows as a kind of shorthand or a touchstone to really drag people into the emotion of a moment.”

“It sometimes feels like cheating,” says Blaine, honestly. “Like our generation’s too lazy to listen to something they haven’t heard before. Like I’ve just chopped everything into easy pieces.”

“I get that, but you’ve pulled it together perfectly,” says Kurt. “It’s clever; it’s using what you know about music and our generation to bring about bigger, older story than you could otherwise. And it’s not all repurposed. The original material is beautiful too.”

There’s a pause. Blaine looks down for a moment and presses his lips together. He is a little too happy to speak.

“We’re so excited to see it,” says Tina. “And with the special bonus of Kurt.”

“He’s not just in it, he’s going to blow everyone away,” says Blaine and hopes his face isn’t glowing. Kurt looks at the table.

“You sing too, yeah?” asks Tex. “Tina says you’re awesome. Are you casting yourself? Jonathan to Kurt’s David?”

Blaine blushes. “No. No, I’m not really the right fit. I love singing. I can rock out to a song or lead a show choir, but this is different.  This musical is extremely important to me. I need people on stage who are more than just enthusiasm for making everyone dance.”

“You’re more than-“ starts Tina. She stops. Kurt’s looking at Blaine again.

“Anyway that role is already filled. Elisha Johnson. He’ll be terrific. He brings all this experience in hip hop, which a lot of the music is, and he can act. Also he’s gorgeous. They’ll be adorable together.” The thought of Kurt and Elisha on stage makes Blaine’s heart hurt and his face smile. It’s going to be amazing. “I’m truly not underselling myself. I get to pull this whole thing together. But once you’ve seen these guys you’ll know.”

Kurt blinks at him and smiles. It’s sort of killing Blaine how every look Kurt gives him is one he’s seen too many times before. He takes a breath and searches for something to say so no one notices the tension he’s feeling.

“I workshopped the Jonathan role, though.”

“Workshopped?” Tex asks.

“Played the role in the early runs through, when we were polishing stuff and pulling the score and libretto together. When we were trying to get backing, too.”

“Who workshopped David?” Kurt asks.

Blaine pauses. “The role is—I didn’t know any good countertenors over here and—Kurt you know what this role demands. It borrows from Regina Spektor and Beyonce. Unless I change the key it reaches a high G.”

“You had a girl sing my role.” Kurt twinkles at him.

“If it helps she was the best in the workshop cast.”

“I honestly doubt that,” says Kurt slowly, meeting Blaine’s eyes.

Later Tina and Kurt are discussing someone called Rafael. Blaine tries to focus on his conversation with Tex about why Blaine should drive through some giant redwood tree and whether Tex and Tina should move to Marin County. But he catches snippets. “He plays soccer quasi-professionally, can you even believe it? I’m trying to coax him out of Adidas and into something Cristiano Ronaldo would wear” and “We met trying to hail the same cab.”  

Then Tina asks, “Are you in love with him?” and Kurt laughs under his breath and doesn’t answer.

Blaine figures it’s time to head home.

He hugs everyone goodbye. Tex slaps him on the back and then kisses his cheek. Tina squeezes him tightly. “We’d better see more of you now,” she says firmly.

“I’ll be in touch about schedules,” says Blaine to Kurt and hugs him quickly. “We’ll have a timetable in the next week or so.” It’s not really all he wants to say. But right now he’s focussing on the good. His show is in production; Kurt is the lead in his show. The fact that Kurt is achingly gorgeous is not the critical issue. Kurt is talented and Kurt is in his show. It is going to be amazing.  


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt eyes himself in his full length bedroom mirror.  Raf slips a hand around his waist and lets it rest on his spine.

“You are very handsome, gordito,” he says.

Kurt refuses to be baited by the pet name. “Coco Chanel says you should look in the mirror and take one thing off before you leave. But I think she might have been giving advice to amateurs.”

“Absolutely,” says Raf. “Though I can think of more than one thing I’d like you to take off.

Kurt smiles, adjusts his filigree scarf pin and turns to kiss Raf. “You’re affectionate tonight,” he says mildly.

Raf wraps his arms around him. “You’re leaving me. What were you expecting?”

Kurt feels something squeeze in his chest. “I’ll be gone eight weeks. You’ll be in Chile playing soccer for three of them.”

“It’s too long,” says Raf. “Seriously, do we have to go out there? We can’t just stay and-?”

“It’s ostensibly my farewell, Raf. I think they’d miss me if I didn’t show.”

Raf groans but sidesteps neatly as Kurt opens the bedroom door.

It’s 9pm so the party hasn’t really started yet. A few of the NYADA crew have turned up early, which is sweet. Though it could just be that they’re impoverished performers and can be sure Kurt spent most of the day cooking.

“The man of the hour!” Rachel squeals as Kurt walks into the living room.

Santana hands him a mixed drink of dubious color. She nods toward Rachel. “She started early. You’ll need this.” She hands another glass to Raf. “Here you go, Pele. Drink up!”

She sashays away to wrest control of the music from Rachel.  Kurt widens his eyes at the near catastrophe and mouths a thank you.

Rachel’s boyfriend Elan is here, leaning against a table and discussing aesthetic sensibilities with some of the designers.

By ten thirty things are warming up. The apartment is too small for a party, realistically, and only a few of the windows open. Everyone looks sweaty and buzzed. Santana brushes past, holding hands with a blonde girl Kurt doesn’t know. “Limey’s arrived,” she says, raising her eyebrows toward the door.

Kurt scans the room. “Adam! Benji!” He heads over to Adam and his boyfriend.

“Hey buttercup.” Adam crinkles a smile at him. He’s given Kurt the same little smile for years. Adam is a close friend. Their break up wasn’t acrimonious, just bittersweet. They had sex a few times afterwards, easy and laughing with each other, but not in the year since Adam met Benji.

Kurt looks up at Benji, who is 6 foot something ridiculous. “We heard you’re going to be a star, sweetheart.”

“Oh god,” says Kurt. “Please don’t jinx me. Was it Rachel?” he asks Adam.

Adam nods. “She says Blaine wrote you a musical,” he says more quietly. Weeks after he and Kurt had broken up, Adam said, without heat, “I never had a chance.”

“Hardly,” Kurt laughs.  “Blaine wrote a musical and there happens to be this role that works for me.”

“A starring role. I imagine he had a lot of other talented countertenors in mind when he wrote it.”

Adam raises his eyebrows but Kurt shakes his head a little.

“I’m pleased for you, Kurt.”

Kurt smiles and hugs him.

A hand runs up Kurt’s arm. “Can I get you a drink, baby?”

Kurt turns. “Raf! You remember Adam and Benji?” They have only met a couple of times. Raf’s not quite as into theater as Kurt would like and he’s busy coaching during the afternoons when Kurt tends to meet Adam for coffee or courtyard cocktails at Gala Bar. They all smile politely.

“We were talking about Kurt’s show,” says Benji. “He’s going to be a star, your boyfriend.”

“Of course he is,” says Raf. He keeps his hand on Kurt’s arm.

“Hush,” says Kurt to Benji. “The show hasn’t even started yet. And we’re starting small. There’s no way to say if it will even be noticed. I’m just happy to have another job in the industry. Two more months that I don’t have to work as a cater waiter holding trays of champagne glasses. I have delicate wrists.”

He looks at Raf. He’s trying not to let every conversation be dominated by talk of the show. It’s been six years since he was made forcibly aware that when something is new and exciting the intensity of his focus leaves people in his life feeling abandoned. Even now, he’s not always great at remedying it.

“How are the cats?” he asks Benji and leans to admire the pictures when Benji pulls out his phone. Some classic Beyonce comes on over the speakers. “Ooh, this song is in the show,” says Kurt before he can help himself. Raf smiles, though, and laughs with the others as Kurt does a little shimmy dance of happiness.

Much later most people have gone. Rachel and Elan are bundled into the arm chair and Kurt is lying with his head on Raf’s lap and his feet draped over Santana’s legs. She’s ended the night mysteriously date free.

The windows are still open to New York’s night sky. “When you wish upon a star,” Kurt hums to himself.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” says Raf. “And you’ll be in San Francisco with every other gorgeous gay boy at your feet.”

“You have entirely nothing to worry about, baby.” Kurt runs his hand across Raf’s muscular thigh. “Maybe I should worry, though. You’ll have the whole Chilean soccer squad hitting on you.”

Santana snorts. “It’s not so hot to be Chilean in Chile,” she says. “It’s full of little twins of Diego here.”

Rachel looks over at Raf and says, “Kurt is very reliable.” She nods as though it’s profound. “You are, honey. You’d never cheat; you’re not that person.”

Kurt has spent the night with Santana as his personal bartender. It’s definitely not the time to examine whether he believes any human being can be counted on not to cheat. He sighs and shifts his head to look up at Raf.

“Come to bed, baby, it’s our last night,” says Raf. “I have plans for you.”

“On my way.” Kurt lifts his head and spins his legs to the floor. As he stands he wobbles a little. It’s been a big night and he has no idea what was in the drinks Santana kept handing him.

Santana smirks. “Hold your horses there, Ronaldo. By the look of Lady K, those plans might need to wait until morning.”

While Raf heads into the bathroom Santana touches Kurt’s arm. “I won’t see you in the morning. I’m opening at the Playhouse.”

Kurt tips his head. She’s sort of become his favorite, though he’d never tell her.  “I’ll see you in two months, then?”

She stands and stretches magnificently, then looks at him with the full force of a Santana glare. “You come back, you hear.”

“Of course,” he says. He hugs her closely and smiles into her hair.  “This is New York.”

***

Kurt has arranged to sublet a room in an Edwardian terrace in Dolores Heights.  Two couples share the rest of the house. Marita and Dee on the second floor draw directions to the grocery store in the air and give him take-out menus. “We’ve cleared a shelf for you in the fridge,” says one of them. “It’s really important not to take my organic almond milk,” says the other. “It costs, like, six dollars a carton.”

There are four flights of narrow stairs. Kurt has far too many bags. It’s a nuisance but he truly couldn’t have opened his second show without a full selection of impeccable outfits. And that requires fourteen pairs of skinny jeans and eighteen scarves. Also all of these boots.  

Once everything is in a kind of order he perches on the bed. The house is walking distance to the Castro and Haight Ashbury, but the neighborhood is quiet. It’s just right for someone with a job to do and a boyfriend at home in New York. Which is the whole point of this endeavor.

He misses, well, everything.

To Dad: Safely here. Stay fit and well or you won’t be able to climb the hills when you come visit. Love you!

To Santana: I am trusting you. Don’t let anyone touch the things I left in the apartment. Especially you. (Did I tell you that I’m going to miss you?)   

To Raf: Miss you baby! Hope Jacob’s party is good and everyone asks after me. Call me when you can.        

From Santana: New roomie is hotter than you and a little bit butch so I let her borrow your McQueen tux.  

From Santana: p.s. You too principessa.

From Dad: Remember to kerb your wheels, kid.

To Dad: I don’t even have a car, dad.

From Dad: Yeah well just remember that I’m proud of you then.

From Dad: Carole sends hugs.

To Dad: You made me cry. Now I need to fix my make-up. (That was a joke…I only wear waterproof)

From Dad: You give it a couple of days and there won’t be time to be sad. We love you Kurt.

To Dad: You too. This is going to be great. Love to Carole.

From Raf: Miss you beautiful!

The next day’s fog is impressive primarily for its inevitability. The moisture in the air isn’t ideal for Kurt’s hair, but he has excellent products so nothing goes awry. The fog burns off by mid-morning and Kurt can see the pretty boxy houses and crazy hills of his short term neighbourhood.  He spends the day reading the libretto in coffee shops and the park, singing in his room, and trying to arrange wifi access so he can download the last of the songs he needs.

He also buys groceries and packs them carefully on his shelves. Someone (probably Dee) has labelled the shelves to make it all crystal clear. He cooks and eats and Jen and Jeremy come home and move around him smilingly. 

“First day tomorrow?” asks Jen.

“Mm-hmm. Then we’re in rehearsal for three weeks.”

“I heard you singing,” she says. “I was impressed.”

“Thank you. I uh- hope I didn’t bother you.”

“Oh no,” she laughs.

“She was singing along,” says Jeremy. “Which was worse.”

Later, upstairs in his room, Kurt looks out the window over the district and hums to himself while he moisturises carefully. He isn’t nervous about rehearsal. Blaine is placing a lot of trust in him, it’s true, but Kurt knows himself. He knows - has always known - that he can do this.

It has been a difficult couple of weeks though - packing and leaving the place he’s called home for so many years. He isn’t second guessing the decision to come to San Francisco. He believes in this show. He believes in Blaine. He is just tired, everything is new, and his chest is a little tight. He doesn’t call Raf for affection or Santana for nerve or Rachel for advice. He doesn’t call his dad, either. He is Kurt Hummel and he can do anything. He will be fine.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay - cast grab a chair at that end, production and crew at this one,” says Blaine waving to the rectangle of tables in the rehearsal space. “Wes has scores if you need one. The last changes were two weeks ago so you can use your own copy if it’s up to date.”

He sees Kurt out of the corner of his eye. Blaine’s heart stutters. Kurt’s sipping something hot from a travel mug. Blaine smiles. Kurt waves a little wave, then scans the room. He sits between Vanessa and Amaryllis at the cast end.

“Okay.” Blaine looks around. He raises his voice a little over the chatter. “We’re all here.” There’s a lot of promise in the room but it’s an inexperienced cast, not to mention an inexperienced production team. “Over to you, Devi.”

Devi says, “Introductions first. Then we’re doing a run through. Just with a pianist today,” She nods an acknowledgement to Savannah, “but get your voices ready so we know what you can and if we need to fix anything. You lot are all exceptional I’m sure. But truth is most of you don’t have a fucking idea what you’re doing. I want to get a sense of how this thing is going to fit together; I want the set crew to get a feel for the flow and the dance crew to get a feel for the cast and music and I want our boy genius, Blaine, to hear how it all works.”     

There’s fidgeting with paper and then there are many, many introductions. There are only a couple of people who know one another. Blaine ensures he can recall everyone’s names.

At length, Savannah starts on the piano. “All righty then. You’re up first, Kurt,” says Devi.

Kurt nods.  

The starting point is the boy David, in the fields with his father’s sheep. In a moment, the mobile tenor of his father Jesse will be discussing war and politics with the rich-voiced prophet Samuel. Soon they’ll bring in the dancers and David’s brothers will be roughhousing and swaggering across the stage. But for now it’s just a lilting melody and a boy’s clear tones.

Everyone’s eyes are on Kurt so no one notices Blaine sigh as his music finds a voice.

The run through is relatively smooth. The set design guys scribble drawings and pass notes to Blaine. “Live sheep? Paintings? Robot sheep?” Blaine smiles and holds onto them for Devi. The choreographer, Joshua, shares sketches with one of the senior dance crew and nods vigorously at the cast.

Elisha is a pleasure to hear - blazingly confident as Jonathan. His smile is all energy and charm and he shifts his body comfortably even while seated. Kurt sounds beautiful. Their voices blend in a way that Blaine and Kurt's probably never did.  

They're in the middle of the run through and Jonathan’s soldier friends are laughing through some 50 cent song. “God’s favorites have a hard time, brother.” One of the guys is improvising a rap that has potential. Devi hisses across to Blaine, “You took out the Katy Perry song?”

He wasn’t expecting the question. “Yes,” he says.

“Huh. I liked it,” she says. “It was all young and sweet like our boys are. Couldn’t you get the permissions?”

“No, it just seemed -um- self-indulgent.” Blaine doesn’t look away from Devi but he can feel Kurt’s eyes on him three seats over. “I pulled it a couple of weeks ago.”

The song always felt wrong, really. In Blaine’s mind “Teenage Dream”will always belong to Kurt, to Blaine and to Kurt. Ultimately he couldn’t stand the thought of Jonathan singing it to David. He pulled it before he sent the script to Kurt.

“Okay,” she says. “Let’s talk about it later.”

Toward the end of the show David sings to Jonathan: _You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first_.

Kurt’s voice rises skilfully. For just a moment he turns his head and looks at Blaine. Blaine stops breathing. 

_I loved you first._

**

 “I just need the dance crew to pull this section together,” says the choreographer, Joshua, in his pleasant voice.  “The rest of you don’t go anywhere. It’ll only take five.”

Kurt walks over and sits in the first row. The guys playing Jesse and Saul aren’t available for a few days so they’re starting on the club scene. It’s hip hop – sexy and ridiculous. Kurt has a lot of dance training, but there are no pirouettes in this. He’s weary of his own body.

Elisha throws himself into the seat beside Kurt. “You’re doing alright, for a white boy,” he grins cheekily and it lights his eyes.  

“Hip Hop,” Kurt sighs. “Not exactly my forte. I spent years just training myself out of shimmying.”

“Huh. Well I meant it, you’re doing fine. But talk to Joshua. He’s a good choreographer and a creative guy. I’ve worked with him before on one of that neverending series of Step-Up movies. I figure you’re playing a 17 year old kid trying to seduce this super-hot princely ass. You want to bring something that stands out.”

“Standing out isn't usually my problem,” says Kurt, trying not to feel indignant.

“No, I suppose not.” Elisha looks him up and down appreciatively. He’s a straight guy, Kurt’s pretty sure. But he’s the kind of straight guy who works in theater. He’s comfortable in his own skin and comfortable admiring that of others.

“I mean, an actual shimmy is probably out,” says Elisha.

Kurt laughs as Joshua calls them over. “I’ll try to avoid the jazz hands too, shall I?”

He approaches Joshua a little tentatively. He doesn’t want to appear too much of a diva. Not yet, anyway.

“Can I try this a little differently?” Kurt says. “I’m thinking a bit more hip movement, a bit less krumping, which is not really in my skill set.” Joshua eyes him. He’s pretty laid back for a choreographer but he has no reason to trust Kurt with this.

“If it doesn’t work for you I’ll switch back,” Kurt says. “I’ll krump. I’ll chest pop or pop lock if you need me to.”

“Jerk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jerk, pop, lock, krump, clown, twerk, tilt.” Joshua’s laughing at him. “My choice.”

“But I can try it my way first?”

“Sure. Give it a go.”

Kurt smiles his thanks and heads over join the cast. He sees Blaine seated toward the back of the rehearsal space and tries not to view his presence as additional pressure. Instead he slides into David’s mind. 

Kurt knows what it’s like to long for someone you think is out of your league. It’s easy to remember being the kid on the outside, looking in. Blaine, his self-assured teenage dream of a private school boyfriend, is entirely too caught up in that thinking. But this is David’s life and Jonathan is David’s dream. Kurt holds onto his own memories; makes use of them as he steps into the scene.

This time there’s that perfect flicker of chemistry between David and Jonathan. Kurt circles Elisha and backs away, building David’s youthful confidence in his eyes and through his body. When David sings, “I want to shut down the club, with you,” he knows Jonathan can think of nothing else. When Jonathan says “I might lose it,” David is thrilled and wary, watching this soldier prince who can’t tear his eyes away. 

When the scene is over, Elisha claps him on the back. “Hot,” he says, grinning.

“It felt good. Thanks for your advice.”

Kurt looks around the room. Blaine has disappeared sometime during the scene. Kurt tamps down on his disappointment. He’s aware that he wants Blaine, as the show’s writer, to see his words come to life. But he also wants Blaine, simply as Blaine, to appreciate Kurt’s performance. Kurt spent years with Blaine’s approbation, with Blaine’s applause. It’s hard to admit, even only to himself, that he still longs for that. He doesn’t look for it from just anyone. Of all people in the world, Kurt longs to see that bright admiration in Blaine’s eyes. The thought is terrifying.    

On the way home he gets a message.

From Blaine: The scene was wonderful. Can’t wait to see more.

Kurt smiles to himself even as he wills himself not to.

 

**

It's dark and wet outside. Kurt’s just made it home after rehearsal ran long. Kurt’s phone rings.

“Raf!” he answers. He props the phone on his shoulder and sits on the edge of his bed to unlace his boots.

“Hey baby,” says Raf. “How’s San Francisco treating you?”

“Amazing. Lonely. Amazing. The show’s going well, I think.”

Raf talks about a party with some of their friends, and how much Kurt would love some underground piano bar his team mates found. When they hang up Kurt is smiling. He steps over to the basin he’s put in his room and pours out some water from the jug. 

Before Kurt can answer his phone rings. It’s Raf again.

“Aww. Did you miss me too much, baby?” Kurt says.

“Kurt. Baby, I need to tell you something.”

Kurt’s stomach drops. He presses a hand against the dresser to support himself. “What is it?” he says. He ensures that his voice is very even.

“I- look- Kurt I’m so sorry.”

“What did you do?”

“I- slept with someone. Kurt. I am so very sorry. I was- I missed you and-“

It’s mostly just disappointment – weariness and disappointment. But there’s anger there too - a growing and inescapable fury. Kurt doesn’t want to consider exactly which person is making him most angry. He shuts his thinking down.  “Stop right there,” he says to Raf.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Raf’s voice is miserable. 

Kurt keeps his cool. “Just a suggestion, then, perhaps you could have kept your dick out of some guy’s ass in the week and a half that I’ve been gone.”

“It wasn’t like that-“

“I don’t care who fucked who, Raf. I don’t care if you were thinking with your dick or your tiny, tiny ego. Either way you fucked me.” 

Kurt doesn’t raise his voice. There’s nothing more to say to Raf. Kurt hangs up.

He washes his face with care. He looks out over the light and dark of San Francisco. He closes his eyes. His phone rings again and he turns it off. “Fuck this,” he says aloud. Kurt doesn’t expect epic movie magic romance any more. But he does hope for honesty. He sets his jaw and keeps a tight hold on all the hurt and anger. He has another rehearsal in the morning. Maybe at the end of the week he can deal with this.


	6. Chapter 6

The cast and crew are crammed about a long table in the middle of a local Mexican place. Blaine and Wes have been in meetings with financial backers and theater owners for a day and a half so Blaine’s hardly seen the cast since Wednesday. He hasn’t heard from Kurt at all.

Kurt’s at the other end of the table, sitting beside Amaryllis. Blaine watches as Kurt makes some quick, sharp comment. Across the table Elisha widens his eyes, amused. All three giggle.

Devi’s recounted the last few days and everything sounds like it’s going smoothly. Perhaps nothing truly inspired yet, except the chemistry between the leads, but everyone’s been working hard and even with all the theater people involved no one seems to hate each other.

Despite this, across the room, Kurt looks brittle.

Blaine says his hellos and skirts the table. He lowers himself into the vacant seat beside Kurt. When Kurt slants his eyes toward him, Blaine amends his first impression. Kurt looks brittle and fucking dangerous.

“Hey you,” says Kurt quietly.

“Hey.” Blaine gestures to the drinks menu. “What’s good?”

Kurt slides his glass across. “Try this. It’s not precisely ambrosial but it does the trick.”

Blaine takes a sip. He meets Kurt’s eyes over the salted rim. It occurs to him that he is in trouble here.

Thankfully the food arrives and Blaine orders his own drink and breathes like his heart is still beating normally. Some of the crew arrive. They’re not full time at this stage, of course, and they tend to come and go at will. They pull up some chairs and crowd around Blaine. Kurt’s talking brightly with Amaryllis and Vanessa and doesn’t appear to notice as Blaine gives up the battle to keep space between their thighs.  

“I’ve got the most awesome idea for the Goliath head,” says Rob, the props guy.

Blaine grins. He looks down the table to Gustav looming over some of the cast. “You’ll have to make it look like Gustav’s head,” he says. “He’s our Goliath.” He allows himself to be sucked in to conversation about fake eyeballs and giant heads on sticks. 

“So do you have a honey waiting for you back in New York?” one of the dance crew, Carmody, asks Kurt. Blaine keeps his eyes on Rob who’s making laughing plans for appropriate dead giant facial expressions.

Still, he hears Kurt’s breezy reply. “Nope. No one waiting for me at all.”

Blaine looks at Kurt sharply. Obviously something has happened. Blaine doesn’t feel like it’s his place to ask about Rafael. He’d rather not anyway. He feels as though there’s a train rushing toward him but he is powerless to step out of the way. When Kurt shifts his eyes to Blaine, Blaine sucks in a breath.

In the background Blaine hears Carmody laugh and say, on a breath, “Lucky San Francisco.” But Kurt is eying Blaine speculatively and suddenly under the table Kurt’s knuckles brush against Blaine’s thigh. Blaine feels the intent all the way up his spine.

Kurt turns back to chat with Carmody and the dance crew. The set guys are leaning over one of their tablets, looking at an old trailer for _Sharktopus_.

“How about _Piranhaconda_?” says one on a giggle. Kurt’s hand shifts against Blaine’s leg.

When the waiter stops by Kurt orders another margarita. “One for you, Blaine?” he asks, leaning closer. Blaine is not about to say no with Kurt’s shoulder against his and Kurt’s hand on his thigh.

A lot of the cast and crew have cleared out so there’s more room at the table, but Kurt hasn’t moved away. Halfway through the drink Blaine places his hand into Kurt’s and tangles their fingers together. He circles his thumb against Kurt’s palm between their hands. He feels the catch in Kurt’s breath. They sit for a moment with their hands tangled between them.   

“Take me home, please,” breathes Kurt in Blaine’s ear and Blaine has never wanted anything more than this in his entire life.

“Okay,” he says. He was never going to say anything else.

Okay.

**

Blaine’s apartment is a blessedly short cab ride from the restaurant. Kurt looks out the window on the way. He tries not to think at all. He can feel Blaine’s eyes on him and it’s desperately familiar and yet so new.

They pull up and climb out. Just inside the apartment Blaine says, softly, “Are you sure of what you want here, Kurt?”

Kurt closes the door and leans against it to tug Blaine close. He recognizes what he wants. He wants to forget every hurt; wants to forget every word and every thought. He wants to be surrounded and taken over, inside and out.

He says, “Yes.” His voice is rough. He feels the resulting tremor in Blaine.  

Blaine angles his hips and presses Kurt’s body into the door. Kurt keeps one hand clenched in Blaine’s shirt and runs the other into Blaine’s hair. He tugs Blaine’s head back slightly. Blaine’s darkened eyes focus slowly. He lets out a shuddering breath and Kurt watches his upper lip curl a little at the corner. There’s a heady power in knowing that Kurt can still draw Blaine to shrug off all the polite behaviour that’s been instilled in him. Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s neck. He shifts to kiss under Blaine’s jawline, and Blaine’s body seems to crumple against him.

When they break apart Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and tugs him into the kitchen.

“Bedroom,” says Kurt with what he hopes is convincing authority, but Blaine pours two glasses of water and hands one to him. He steps away from Kurt and Kurt watches.

Blaine’s hair is looser than he used to wear it. It curls a little. He’s wearing a charcoal Romeo & David shirt that fits him perfectly and slim fit red pants. It’s kind of a catastrophe how many things Kurt still loves about this man. Kurt plants his glass on the bench firmly, meets Blaine’s eyes and leans closer. They kiss with water-cooled mouths. Kurt presses his tongue into Blaine’s mouth and Blaine moans as he closes his eyes.

“Seriously. Bed,” says Kurt close to Blaine’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.”

Blaine stills for a moment.

“Please,” says Kurt. It’s been years, but the truth is Blaine could never say no to Kurt when Kurt said please.

Once they’re in the bedroom, Kurt unbuttons his shirt and slides steadily out of his jeans. Blaine watches for a second and then takes off his own clothes. Blaine is perfect naked, just so faultlessly put together, and it aches inside Kurt like an old wound. Everything is colored with betrayals, his own and others, old and new. He’s turned on, yes, but he’s wound up and angry too.  

“God. Kurt.” Blaine’s voice is soft and his eyes warm and this innate tenderness is maybe the last thing Kurt wants.

He pushes Blaine backwards onto the bed and straddles him. Blaine raises his eyebrows but Kurt grinds his ass down against Blaine’s. Blaine’s cock is hard against him. He moans as Kurt runs his hands up Blaine’s chest. 

“I want you. Deep inside me,” Kurt says. “I want your balls slamming up against me.” He watches Blaine’s eyes dilate further before he twists his body to pull Blaine down on top of him. Everything is just skin to hot skin.

“Supplies?” Kurt asks.

Blaine reaches wordlessly for a bedside drawer and pulls out a condom and lube. Kurt rolls over beneath him. He leans forward on his bent arms and spreads his thighs. His ass is cocked in the air. If he’s confident of anything it’s that he looks good like this, even though the deference inherent in the position doesn’t come easily to him. It’s certainly not how they ever did this before which he supposes is largely the point.

He shudders as Blaine plants one hand on his hip and traces his hole with a slicked finger. They’re both significantly more experienced than they used be. Blaine’s knees slide between Kurt’s and he sits his weight back onto his heels. His breathing is unsteady.  “You can start with two fingers,” Kurt says.

Kurt knows why he’s doing this. He is aware that he wants to incontrovertibly separate this whole thing from those early times sharing a bed where they gazed soulfully into each other’s eyes and fumbled their way through new love. This is different.

He moans, deep and shaking, as Blaine pushes two fingers inside him and twists them smoothly and repeatedly. He doesn’t need to ask for more, Blaine is already pushing a third finger in to stretch Kurt further. Kurt shifts his hips back, fucking himself on Blaine’s fingers. “Inside me,” he manages on another moan. “Please Blaine.”

It’s a loss when Blaine removes his fingers. But then Blaine presses the tip of his cock into Kurt and rocks gently forward. Kurt supports himself on one arm and reaches the other back to ineffectively tug at Blaine’s hips. “More,” he manages.

Blaine groans as he thrusts far inside Kurt. Kurt’s arms give out under him. He drops his body forward and leans into the bed. His cock rubs against the bed. He feels opened up, stretched and crowded with Blaine’s hips tight against his ass and Blaine’s hot breath on his neck.

“God, you feel incredible,” says Blaine as he starts moving faster, pushing deeper into Kurt. He shifts angles and his cock presses against Kurt’s prostate. Kurt gasps. He lets his hips thud back harder into Blaine’s as they find a tempo.

Blaine reaches an arm around Kurt’s hips and lifts them up a little from the bed. He grasps Kurt’s cock in one lubed hand. Kurt bites back a cry. He buries his face in the bed. Blaine wraps his hand about Kurt’s cock and moves rhythmically. The pleasure builds like a bright current in Kurt’s spine. He thursts mindlessly forward into Blaine’s fist and back onto Blaine’s cock. He can’t stop himself from grunting into his release. He comes hard on a sob.

“Fuck, Kurt… fuck…” Blaine falls apart above him. He pumps his cock into Kurt over and over as he comes. His body is shuddering; his mouth open and gasping against the skin of Kurt’s back. Blaine holds himself there, thighs trembling between Kurt’s as he rides out the last of his orgasm.

He drops gentle kisses to Kurt’s shoulder blades as he pulls out slowly. It’s sweet and it’s wholly agonizing.  Kurt is just glad he has his face turned into the bed so Blaine can’t see the tears that fill his eyes. But he has never been able to hide his emotions well. At some point he’ll have to come up, if only to breathe.

Blaine tips himself over onto one side and lies beside Kurt.  He runs a hand across Kurt’s back. Kurt’s breath catches a little inside his chest. He rolls over to face away from Blaine.

“Okay, just let me-” Kurt says. “I just.” He takes a shaky breath.

“Kurt?” Kurt feels like he’s frozen where he lies. “Please look at me,” says Blaine.

Kurt turns to look at Blaine over his shoulder. He calls on all his hard won self-control. It’s clearly not enough.

“Kurt,” Blaine says on an exhale. “Are you- Did I-“. His face crumples into worry. He blinks helplessly. Kurt wants to hold himself together and Blaine looks like he is falling apart.   

“I’m sorry.” Kurt says. “Blaine I am so sorry. I just need to- clear my head.” Kurt turns and reaches for his clothing. “I need to go.” Blaine is silent as Kurt pulls his pants and shirt on.

He has to sit on the bed to tie his boots.

“Just give me a second,” says Blaine. He is grabbing a t-shirt and boxers and pulling them on. “I’ll call you a cab.”

Kurt can’t stand the idea of waiting here in Blaine’s apartment with Blaine. “I’ll find one on the street,” he says.

“Please, Kurt.”

When Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes there is nothing to say. It is simply unspeakable.

“I’ll be fine,” Kurt says. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry. This will be fine.” He can feel Blaine’s gaze on his back as he walks out.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt wakes to a surprisingly clear Saturday.  The sunlight feels wrong – there should be torrential rain or at least the listless cloud San Francisco exhibits on most days.  

There are no rehearsals until Monday. It’s a relief not to see Blaine, Kurt isn’t ready for that, but he wishes there was something other than time stretching ahead of him.

He has kind of fucked this up.

He’s wary of talking it through with anyone. He knows Rachel will align herself melodramatically on his side, even though he’s fairly convinced he has done something wrong here. And despite her unexpected soft spot for Blaine, Santana remains committed to the idea that sex is just sex and can’t really hurt. She’ll mostly be thrilled Kurt got some. She’ll also take pleasure in giving all the juicy details to Raf should he make an ill-advised attempt to stop around. Not that Kurt’s against hitting Raf with some of that imagery, exactly, but he’d rather not use hooking up with his first love as a tool against the guy who just cheated on him.

He certainly can’t call his dad.                                        

Instead he calls Adam, who understands a lot of things.

“Kurt! We’re just in from a fancy brunch at Leafy Lyle’s. They make rather a nice mojito,” says Adam.

“Do you have a moment?” Kurt asks. “To talk.”

“Sure,” says Adam easily, though Kurt hasn’t often asked Adam for help. “Benji love, I might just sit out on the fire escape and catch up with Kurt.”

After a moment of shuffling Adam asks, “What’s cooking with you, sweetheart?” The noise of the city is in the background. In that moment Kurt misses New York ferociously.

“I had sex with Blaine.” In the light of day it sounds almost acceptable. Until he recalls the circumstances.

“Oh? And this was a… bad thing?”

Kurt thinks, _This was an incredible thing but-_ “It was kind of fucked up,” he says quietly. 

“Because you’re with Raf?”

“No.” Oddly Kurt had almost forgotten Raf. “Oh no I’m not with Raf any more-”

“Okay.” Adam doesn’t even try to direct the conversation.

“Raf hooked up with someone, Adam. I was gone all of eleven days and he cheated on me.”

“Oh, pet.” Adam’s voice is all kindness but it doesn’t check Kurt’s anger and humiliation.

“What is it with me? I tried to include Raf in this whole San Francisco thing. But- It’s like whoever they are, I can’t even leave the room before my boyfriend is looking for someone better.” Kurt knows he’s being unfair, and probably not to Raf.

“Hey. No. That’s not-“

“So then we were out for dinner with the cast and I laid it on hard with Blaine.”

Adam chuckles. “I bet you did. He wouldn’t have known what hit him.”

“Adam,” Kurt protests quietly.

“Kurt. I’m certainly the first to admit it would have been better if you had chosen to do this with someone less- well, less fraught. Someone where there’s less history.”

“The history might have been why I pushed it,” Kurt admits.

“Fair point, love. So what’s going to happen with Blaine?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmmm,” Kurt can hear Adam’s scepticism. 

“Truly nothing,” Kurt says. Kurt has only hurt like this once before. He can do many things, but he refuses to experience this kind of anguish. Not again.

To his relief Adam lets it go. “All right. And how is the show looking?”

“It’s extraordinary,” says Kurt, tearing up a little.

“There you are. So you need to find a way you chaps can get through this, preferably without breaking each other’s hearts again.”

Kurt nods, though Adam can’t actually see him. “Thanks,” he says and sniffs. He takes a breath then asks after Adam’s latest and greatest acapella ensemble, and Benji’s continuing costuming crises and the cats.

Before they hang up Adam says, “You’ve got to take the time to grieve, Kurt. Or at least to properly think.”

“About my relationship with Raf?”

“I meant your relationship with Blaine.”

Kurt pauses. He wishes he weren’t so obvious. “That was almost seven years ago,” he tries.

“Then why is sex with him so fucked up? You two are single gentlemen living the gay theater dream in San Francisco. Having sex should be easy.”

Kurt hopes that Adam is wrong. But he has to admit, he and Adam hooked up a few times after they broke up. It was fun. It was easy. It was nothing like this. It’s only ever been like this when Blaine was involved.

When Kurt checks his phone later there’s a message.

From Blaine: I hope you’re okay.

To Blaine: I am okay. And also truly sorry.

Kurt spends some of Sunday with Tina and Tex. They show him around their neighborhood, dodging strollers at the flea market and braving the winds to sit with coffee in a hillside park. While Tina and Tex discuss green space Kurt makes a decision. He apologises to the others as he pulls out his phone.

To Blaine: I know we need to talk. Are you free this evening?

From Blaine: I can be. When and where?

To Blaine: Say 6. Somewhere neutral. Coffee shop, quiet bar?

Blaine sends the address of a wine bar in Hayes Valley.

On the way down the hill, Tex gets himself lost in a store full of kitsch plastics from the 70s and 80s. Tina pulls Kurt out to the sidewalk and into a seat shaped like clasped hands.

“Cute,” he says of the seat. “Tacky but cute.”

Tina ignores him. “You don’t seem yourself,” she says. “What’s going on?”

Kurt flicks a glance at her.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Kurt Hummel. The bright outfit and quick conversation might fool some people. Not me.”

Kurt tries to smile. “I’ll be fine, Tina. I can’t talk about it now. Not yet.”

“Blaine?” she asks gently.

When he looks away she says, “Oh, Kurt.” But she’s grown up, too, so she doesn’t look at him with daggers or even remind him that she warned him. She did warn him.

“Blaine and I are going to talk it through tonight,” he says. “I need to fix this.” She hugs him as Tex approaches with some glitter globe salt shakers.

“Awe-inspiring, right?” says Tex.

“I am certainly in awe,” agrees Kurt. Tina squeezes his hand. 

**

Blaine orders a glass of wine and sits facing the door. He lifts a hand as Kurt comes in. Kurt looks both anxious and beautiful. Blaine doesn’t know whether to smile. He suspects he looks like he’s constipated.

Kurt sits across from him and crosses his legs. They both take a mouthful of wine, like they’re synchronized.

They discuss the weekend. Blaine ran at North Beach; hired some band members for the show; had Sunday brunch at the Moose with friends including Wes and his fiancée. He doesn’t mention the number of texts he wrote, then deleted before sending. He doesn’t mention how hard it was to face his bedroom, its tangled sheets still smelling of Kurt.

As they talk, Kurt’s fingers shift items on the table: coaster, napkin, wine glass. Blaine keeps his hands folded in his lap so he doesn’t reach out to him. He orders mixed olives to give Kurt something to do.

Kurt takes a breath. “I’m not that silly romantic kid you knew when we were in high school. I’m not sure what I am. But I’m hurt and I might be taking it out on you. So right now I think it would be unkind of me to let you believe I have anything in me I can give you.”

He lifts his eyes to Blaine’s. Blaine expected this but it still feels like a punch to the stomach. He’s not sure he has any answer.   

“This show is going to be wonderful,” says Kurt. “And I really want to be a part of that. It’s important to me. I think- I think I’m important to the show too.”

“You are important to the show,” says Blaine. “I wouldn’t-” He’s shocked that Kurt could assume he would be so small-minded.

Kurt stumbles over his reassurance.  “No. Oh no I would never think you’d retaliate like that. No. I just-” He steadies himself. “I want to ensure that we can pull this incredible thing together without hurting each other. Without me hurting you.”

Blaine wants to fight but he doesn’t even have a place to start.  

When Kurt and Blaine first met, Blaine was the hub of the school. He’d known unerringly how to act so he would be liked and respected. Everything came easily for him. At the same time Kurt was worn down. He seemed fragile and lonely. Blaine had known he could hold out a hand and Kurt would be his. Somehow he had assumed that he deserved that devotion. Somehow he had been certain Kurt would always be his.

And then he wasn’t.

Blaine wanted Kurt back. And for the first time, what he wanted wouldn’t come easily.

Now faced with this grown up version of Kurt, Blaine feels like he’s forgotten everything he ever knew. And if this Kurt is lonely or fragile he’s certainly not about to tell Blaine.  

“Okay. We can do that,” Blaine says. He doesn’t reach out his hand. He knows Kurt wouldn’t take it.

“I’m sorry,” says Kurt.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” says Blaine. He’s angry with himself though. It took a lot to get over Kurt. And now he thinks he may be right back where he started - where his heart just aches.

They don’t stay long. The sun is setting as they leave.

“I don’t want to be ambiguous here,” says Blaine on the sidewalk. “And I’m not going to push anything. I know I’ve hurt you and I don’t know exactly what is going on for you right now or why things are the way they are. But I do believe this could be something between us. I have never stopped believing that.” Kurt’s look is inscrutable in the half light. But I also know that getting over you nearly killed me. I don’t want either of us to hurt like that again.”

Kurt nods. His eyes are bright. It breaks Blaine’s heart.

“I’ll see you at rehearsal,” says Blaine.

He only just hears Kurt’s quiet, “Thank you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt arrives at the rehearsal space with Elisha and some of the guys who’re playing Jonathan’s friends. Blaine smiles at them from across the room.

Even when they were in love, Kurt couldn’t read all the things sitting behind Blaine’s smile. He relied on an in depth knowledge of Blaine and asking the right questions. He certainly can’t read him now. It makes him both sad and grateful for Blaine’s professionalism.

“Sorry we’re late,” Elisha says to Blaine and the band. “Costume fitting. Don’t you worry, though. We are going to look spectacular.”

Unsurprisingly Kurt has some ideas about costuming. He’s imagined himself in increasingly militaristic and structured gear as he grows into the role of King David. He’s pleased that the costuming guy seems to know his way around Ray Petri’s Buffalo spreads and Versace’s runway military wear as well as real world military apparel.     

They’re working on the music leading up to the battle with Goliath. Most of it is original but there are some pop and R&B classics woven in. Kurt’s been listening to the Beyoncé song over and over and is in love with this idea of David who knows so little about war, choosing to battle this giant. He has her voice on a loop in his head. _I don’t know much about fighting but I’ll fight for you._

He watches Blaine talk quickly to the band and then walk over.

One of the cast members has punctured a lung in a bike accident. He’ll be fine but he won’t sing or dance this month. He was playing Josheb, who’ll become a leader of David’s mighty warriors. The role is mainly backing vocals though there are a few solo lines. Josheb is a voice of experience and calm when a shaking David brings back Goliath’s severed head.

“Who are you going to use?” asks one of the guys.

“We’ll need to spread his lines around. I’m not convinced we have time to get someone new before the opening,” says Blaine.

“You should take the role,” says Kurt. Blaine looks up at him with a little puzzled frown.

Elisha speaks up. “You should, Blaine. You know every part. It’s this one scene plus the club so it won’t stop you doing all the music directing we need.”

Blaine says nothing for a second. “Okay. I can do that. I’ll talk with Devi and Wes.”

When they start the rehearsal he slots in with the guys.

It’s strange to be on stage with Blaine again. The last time they performed together they were teenagers. They were in love. Kurt had always known exactly where Blaine was on stage, had caught his eye effortlessly.

It was different then. Blaine was the front man, confidently charming the audience. Kurt wasn’t the lead, maybe ever. But he always knew what he wanted.

Everything has changed, of course. They've grown up some of the way. But until he shifts into character, Kurt still knows exactly where Blaine is.

The soldiers are firing each other up for battle singing some Ludacris - _why tip-toe through life, to arrive safely at death_. David moves aside, watches.  He is a child becoming a man. Then he sees Goliath, that mountain of humanity. David looks at Jonathan and steps out to battle. He is so sure of himself, his faith, this man. And Jonathan, the soldier prince David loves, looks back at him with something like awe.  

They run through with the band until everything works perfectly. It’s extraordinary stuff. Kurt hadn’t known Blaine could write music like this.

In breaks from performing, Kurt watches Blaine direct. It’s an insight into the things Blaine has always been and into the ways he has grown up. Blaine’s musicianship is unarguable. But more than that, Blaine is a natural leader. Kurt watches him charm the crew and manage the cast. Everyone listens as though they can’t help it. And Blaine beams time and again as things fit together.

“Kurt, Elisha? You guys are up again,” says Blaine. Kurt gives a little sigh to watch him, then shakes his shoulders back and heads on stage.

**

When the time comes closer, Kurt emails invitations to the opening to his dad, to Carole and Finn, to Santana and Rachel.

From Rachel: Oh no! I’m so sorry! The role in the _Cube_ musical begins that week. I will send star power vibes. I know you will be incredible, Kurt.

From Dad: Wouldn’t miss it. Carole too.

From Finn: I’ll see if I can be there little brother.

From Santana: See you in the Castro, my pretty. P.S. The girls in San Francisco are fucking hot. T/F 

Kurt spends rehearsal times alternating between exhausted and happy. The time off is harder. Tina has exams so she isn't as available as she'd like. There's a lot of free time. Kurt doesn’t really want to think. Instead he sleeps, explores the neighborhood and spends time with the cast. Sometimes some of the guys head out together. Kurt doesn’t drink much. He lets himself dance at the gay bars but avoids meeting any of the guys’ eyes. 

They rehearse straight through the last weekend. When the band is out for a day, Blaine seats himself at the piano. He plays as though he was born to do just that. It’s flawless. Kurt watches and tries not to long for things that long ago slipped through his fingers.

In a break Kurt can’t resist pulling up a chair next to Blaine. Kurt hands over a bottle of water. Blaine accepts it with a soft “Thanks”. The boy has such infuriatingly lovely manners. Kurt stays and turns pages for Blaine.

When Elisha and the soldiers sing in rich harmony, Blaine beams at Kurt. His smile is full of joy in the music.

Later most of the cast has gone. Some of the crew are setting up the stage. “What do you think,” Blaine asks. “Is this section too subdued?”

Kurt contemplates the area of the stage in which David and Jonathan will lay down their hearts with one another. They’re so young and so in love it breaks Kurt’s heart.

_Want to stay right here, 'til the end of time, 'til the earth stops turning._

“It needs to be inward looking,” he says. “Your lighting guy can make sure the audience can only see us. Elisha and I will bring the intimacy.”

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s going to be exquisite,” says Blaine. He meets Kurt’s eyes and all Blaine's warmth is there at the surface. “You are incredible up there, Kurt. I’m so thankful to have you here.”

“Me too,” says Kurt. He means more than that. He wants to say that he is aware of how extraordinary Blaine is. But there’s a lot caught up in that and he doesn’t have the words for it yet.

They sit for a still moment. There’s a whole room full of activity around them.

Then someone yells “Watch out!” A rope swings free and a light tumbles to the stage with a clatter. Blaine leaps up and away. As they’re clearing up he looks back at Kurt with a rueful smile. Kurt’s stomach flips to see it. All of his defences feel like they are tumbling to the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Theater people touch each other disproportionately, and dance crew guys tend to take off their shirts at the slightest provocation. Kurt has had years to accustom himself to this reality. For the most part he’s at ease with it. He’s also at ease with this cast and crew. They’re talented people doing a good thing well.

So at the end of another long day of rehearsal, Kurt is sitting in a chair in the rehearsal room while Carmody from the dance crew sits on the floor and leans against him. Carmody’s helped with some of Kurt’s moves and they’ve somehow become friends.

Carmody’s leaning against Kurt’s legs. He’s faintly sweaty from the previous dance number. Kurt raises his eyebrows but Carmody doesn’t shift away.   

“So what’s the tale with you and our charming director of music?” Carmody looks across the room to where Blaine and Devi are talking. Devi is waving her hands.  

“Blaine?” Kurt sighs. He likes Carmody and trusts him too. “We were childhood sweethearts.”

“Seriously?”

Kurt can’t smile, exactly, but it’s nice to talk to someone who wasn’t there for the whole sad story. “Entirely seriously. First loves even.”

“Oh man,” says Carmody expressively.

“Exactly.”

“Beautiful star crossed boys, torn apart by the fates?”   

“Something like that. It- I moved to New York and everything was different. I forgot to-. It was just different. I was relying on things staying the same, I guess. But we both changed. Sort of.”

“Well damn, that makes perfect sense now.” Carmody laughs. He pats Kurt’s leg in a friendly way. “You’d have made quite the couple.”

Kurt smiles then. “We did.” He looks up and Blaine is walking toward them. He looks his usual picture perfect self in a navy striped Hermes cardigan. 

“Somehow it looks like you still could,” says Carmody. “You’re gorgeous, Kurt. You must have noticed.”

Kurt looks at him, blushing and a little pleased. Carmody smirks. “And Blaine still can’t keep his eyes off you. So, you know, what about it? Did anyone do anything unforgivable?”

“No,” says Kurt. “I don’t think so.”

Kurt knows Blaine; he knows how Blaine could be perfect and yet never quite good enough. He knows how Blaine counted on making people like him even while he doubted they would.

In Kurt, Blaine had someone he couldn’t fool into loving and respecting him. Kurt saw through all Blaine’s flawlessness to the boy underneath. Then Kurt loved and respected that boy anyway. So of course, teenaged Blaine needed Kurt’s approval and attention. And he fell apart when he thought that attention was gone.

Kurt understands where things ruptured. He forgave Blaine a long time ago. But they both made mistakes and Kurt has never asked Blaine to forgive him.  

“One more time from the top,” says Blaine to the cast in general. He doesn’t glance at Kurt.

Later Kurt and Blaine are left to put a final polish on the scene where David learns of Jonathan's death.

After the first run through Blaine says, "I think we can slow down the ending. Pause after _fallen_ and take that section really quietly."

Kurt runs through it again. Blaine flips through the sheet music for a moment.

“Carmody’s a decent guy,” says Kurt into the silence. “But more a dancer than a thinker. And those shapeless pants he wears are wrong on so many levels.”

“He’s interested in you?” asks Blaine. Blaine has always been willing to ask the questions, even into an echoing room.

“No. Not very. Mostly we seem to end up talking about you.”

“Oh.”

Blaine looks back to the sheet music. They move on to the Kate Bush song. Kurt thinks about David who wasn’t even with Jonathan when Jonathan died. Even in the blank canvas of the rehearsal room it aches to sing for David. _If I only could I'd make a deal with God and get him to swap our places._  

There are tears in both boys’ eyes as Kurt finishes.

"Well it is a gay love story," says Kurt. "It can't end happily."

"Except Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka," says Blaine.

Kurt gives a watery giggle. "I've met them," he says. "Briefly. They do seem happy."

"How about Elton John and David Furnish? They’re still happily married," says Blaine.

Kurt laughs. "I believe they are, yes."

Blaine looks at him more seriously. "I don't think it's because they're gay that this story is sad. It's because they're soldiers, and one of them dies. That would have happened despite their sexuality."

"Yes," says Kurt. "But it's still sad. They were apart and Jonathan died and they’ll never see each other again."

"I think I'll write you a happy show next," says Blaine. He speaks absently, as though he’s already running through possibilities in his head. Even so, it feels like a sort of promise for the future. Kurt’s breath catches in his chest. He has always been brave; he has always been willing to ask Blaine what he means. But Kurt doesn’t have words for it now.

**

A few days later Blaine is at the piano transposing a section to take advantage of the wonderful bass  they’ve cast as Samuel. Kurt’s in the rehearsal room too, practising a dance combination for the battle scene. It’s more than nice to be in Kurt’s space again.  

Wes sticks his head in. "The reviewer for the SF _Chronicle_ was in for one of the rehearsals," he says. He pauses for long enough to worry Blaine. "He -uh- wasn't too encouraging. He thought it was shallow and the song sampling only emphasised that. He used words like derivative and cheap."

Blaine breathes around a sudden lump in his throat.

“And why are you telling Blaine this?” asks Kurt coolly. He’s moved to stand behind Blaine at the piano. It is like the old days, when Kurt always had his back.

"I think we should consider delaying the opening," says Wes. "We can start the show with previews. Get ticket sales by word of mouth. That way we don't need to deal with the critics until we're already popular. It encourages them to be nice."

Blaine pauses to think. He glances at Kurt who is considering him with his head to one side.

Blaine turns back to Wes. "That’s one guy's word, Wes. Obviously it's primarily your decision but I want- We need an opening and glowing reviews to take the show further. The show deserves that. If we want to get this onto Broadway or the West End our best bet is to open when we planned and get those reviews in.”

Wes nods slowly. “It’s a risk,” he says. “But I acknowledge your position.”

Blaine feels more confident. “Wes, you’ve seen the show. It’s catchy but it’s not superficial. I think we have to trust it and we have to trust our cast." He meets Kurt’s eyes. Kurt flashes him a tiny smile.

After Wes has left Blaine laughs. He feels light, somehow. He has Kurt’s support, even if Kurt’s quiet confidence in Blaine means more than maybe it should.

“They should appreciate that I took out the Katy Perry. Oh and that Carly Rae Jepson song!” Blaine says.

Kurt giggles sweetly. “The critics would have adored that.”

They leave together.

Kurt is singing under his breath.

_It’s hard to look right at you baby,  
But here’s my number so call me maybe. _

Blaine joins in.

_Before you came into my life I missed you so bad._   
_I missed you so bad._   
_I missed you so, so bad._

Blaine just adores this man. It’s terrible. It’s the best part of agony. He has to hold his hands behind his back to stop from grabbing Kurt there on the street.

They head for buses going different directions.


	10. Chapter 10

The opening is set for Friday. The end of the week approaches more quickly than Blaine expected. He sits in on the technical rehearsal; he watches the cue to cue; he listens to the whole show as it's sung and played over and over again from the beginning. He’s thrilled and anxious.

Both dress rehearsals are a series of calamities but Blaine elects to see that as a positive sign. At least everyone looks great. Kurt, predictably, looks amazing.

Opening night is at the New Conservatory Theatre. Blaine is giddy with it. He’s dressed to meet the critics and guests in the reception hall before the show. Walking across the stage, his hand creeps toward his bow tie. He wouldn’t be himself without an impeccably tied bow tie.

He slips through the wings. Backstage everything is humming with the pulse of opening night, opening night.

Amongst it all Kurt is sitting on a riser, watching the world go on around him. He’s dressed for the opening scene. His feet are bare. In his costume of a slim white t-shirt and loose pants he looks as young and beautiful as the David he will start the night playing. Kurt catches sight of Blaine and looks him up and down. Blaine moves into Kurt's space. Kurt stands and reaches out to adjust Blaine’s bow tie.

“Just right,” he pronounces seriously. "The whole thing." Blaine smiles, oddly relieved.

“Everyone’s ready to go,” says Blaine.

“No last minute disasters?”

Blaine ensures he is touching wood before saying, with some emphasis, “Kurt. No.”

Kurt has the grace to blush. “Sorry, I’m distracted,” he says.

Some of the cast push by, half costumed. Kurt pulls Blaine to sit down beside him.

“I have a gift for you,” he says and takes Blaine’s hand to press something into it.

It’s a lapel pin, old fashioned, with a beautifully moulded red flower.

“Flowers are traditional,” says Kurt. He shrugs, a little reticent. “I couldn’t make a big fuss over you and not the rest of the cast. So I settled on this.”

“Kurt. It’s perfect,” says Blaine. “Pin it on for me?”

“You don’t have to-“

“Kurt.” 

Kurt touches Blaine's lapel with careful hands. His long fingers adjust the pin minutely until he’s satisfied. He smiles. Blaine’s palms are sweaty against his pants. The cast and crew are a whirlwind around them and Kurt’s clear eyes are on him.

Somehow this feels like every moment Blaine ever dreamed up all at once.

“These last couple of weeks,” Kurt says softly, “Have been a bit of a revelation - watching you bring this show together.”

“I’m really proud of everyone,” says Blaine tentatively.

 “I know you are. And the cast is incredible. But what I mean is - Blaine.” Kurt looks pained, tooth extraction levels of pain. Blaine tries to interrupt but Kurt waves a hand to stop him. He takes a breath. “The truth is, for me, there has never been anyone else in a room when you’re there.”

Blaine is aware he is staring, unblinking.

“I wanted you to know,” says Kurt.

“Okay,” Blaine breathes.

“Okay?” Kurt’s eyes are warm and amused. He looks so sure of himself; it takes Blaine’s breath away.

“That’s not what I was expecting you to say,” Blaine manages, which is not what he wants to say.

“What were you expecting?”

Blaine smiles. “Break a leg?” he offers. He can hear the stage manager getting everyone in place, the cast humming and shuffling past, the audience talking beyond the curtain.

He wants everything to slow down. It doesn’t.  

But in a way it doesn’t matter because Kurt is still here. “That too,” Kurt laughs. “Come on. We have a show to put on. Let’s kill this thing,” he says. He leans to kiss Blaine on the cheek, chaste and full of promise. “I’ll see you out there.”

**

The show closes to a standing ovation. It’s an opening night audience, all invited, so the ovation is expected, really. Still, of all people Blaine knows the difference between real and fake and this audience surged to its feet to applaud this cast, his show.

There’s not much in the world that feels like this. Blaine bows with the soldiers, and they all move to one side.

Vanessa and Amaryllis and the older guys, Jesse and Samuel and Saul, come out to cheers.  

Then Elisha and Kurt step onto the stage and the sound is like thunder. Blaine watches Kurt in profile. As always when people applaud him, Kurt looks thrilled and astonished. Blaine's smile widens.

The cast parts and turns to Blaine, some waving him forward. Kurt holds out a hand, his sweet face flushed and glowing. Blaine steps forward to stand with Kurt and Elisha. It's a dream.

 

**

Kurt changes into his three-piece suit with a speed rarely before associated with Kurt Hummel and getting dressed. He takes the time to stop in front of a mirror though. The suit is Nicole Farhi in a textured gray, detailed and perfectly fitted. He has paired it with a red and navy plaid shirt and he loves the contrast.

Kurt hurries out to the entrance hall to find his family and Santana. The room is crowded and Kurt pauses as he enters. Someone collides with his back and he turns to see Blaine. Blaine’s elation is palpable.

"Did you see?" Blaine says. "Kurt. They loved you."

"They loved your show," says Kurt.

Blaine is almost vibrating. He beams at Kurt and it's like the sun coming out.

"Oh my god," says Kurt without meaning to. "You are simply the cutest. I will never not be in love with you."

There’s a suspended moment. Kurt's hand is on Blaine's arm. Blaine’s eyes are wide and bright and Kurt is starting to believe that Blaine’s never looked at anyone but Kurt that way.  

Kurt says, "I was heading to see my dad.”

"My parents are here for the weekend," says Blaine. “But I want-“ His voice breaks a little.

There’s a frozen moment between them.

"I want to have time with you," says Kurt, suddenly decisive. "I want to discuss this. But not just in stolen seconds between the matinee and heading back into make-up."

"Okay.” Blaine takes a breath. “So. Monday? Monday we have no show, and our families will have gone home."

"Monday," says Kurt.

Blaine takes a breath. His eyes are fixed on Kurt as he says, “I want you to know. There hasn’t been a day I wasn’t in love with you.”

“I know,” says Kurt. He doesn’t even try to stop himself from smiling.

He catches sight of his family just before Santana flings herself at him.

“That was absolutely the gayest thing I have ever seen,” she says happily into his ear. She looks at Blaine. “Hi, hobbit.”  She steps over for a hug. “Please tell me I’m interrupting something hot?”

Kurt’s dad reaches him and folds him into his arms.  “So proud, Kurt. So proud,” he says. He lets Kurt go to shake Blaine’s hand. “Good to see you, Blaine. It’s been too long. That was some show.”

Then Carole and Finn are there too and Kurt is enclosed in family and almost too many hugs. He hears Blaine say something about his parents before he’s swallowed by the crowd.

While Kurt’s hailing them a cab, later, Kurt’s dad says, “I always liked Blaine. Good kid.”

“Thanks, Dad,” says Kurt. He doesn’t need to say more. Not yet. Everything feels effortless.


	11. Chapter 11

On the Saturday the reviews come in. Devi and Wes read the best extracts before the matinee.

_“Anderson’s score is very fine work from a new writer. He is ably supported by his cast including opera singer Kevin Thompson as Saul, R &B star Elisha Johnson as Jonathan and young Broadway performer Kurt Hummel as the eponymous David.”_

_“I last saw Mr Hummel on stage in his one man off Broadway show “My Prince Will Come”. At the time I described him as talented but inconsequential. His portrayal of David proves me wrong. When Mr Hummel sings there is an unexpected depth of emotion to even the frothiest pop tunes.”_

_“The humor in the musical choices writer Blaine Anderson has made only highlights the poignancy of the story. Lead actors Kurt Hummel and Elisha Johnson bring chemistry and charm to their roles as David and Jonathan. The supporting cast is also strong, especially Vanessa Freeman as Michal and Amaryllis May as her friend and servant Abigail.”_

_“Choreographer Joshua Allen brings a ferocious and dirty energy to what is essentially a biblical tale of soldiers.”_

_“Elisha Johnson is formidable: an actor who can dance, sing and even rap without losing his innate cool.”_

_“I could have watched several more hours of relative unknown Kurt Hummel. His voice is compelling, but more than that the audience could feel each beat of his heart.”_

_“Come for the morsels of all your favorite pop and show tunes, stay for a potent story of politics and young love. Or just stay for the pop tunes, the cast sounds amazing.”_

Blaine can’t contain his smile. He looks across at Kurt. They have come to an unspoken agreement and are resolutely maintaining their distance. Until Monday. Just until Monday.

The light in Kurt’s eyes is enough to almost undo him.

Saturday night is a bit of a reunion, Mercedes driving up from LA to watch the show with Tina and Tex and Santana and Finn. Kurt looks relaxed with his oldest friends in the room. They’ve known him forever and Mercedes and Tina, at least, have always loved him. Kurt is casually affectionate with these girls in a way that he isn’t with many others. It makes Blaine happy.

Not that much could bring Blaine down. The show is more than he could have hoped. It’s had flattering reviews and tickets sales are exceeding expectations. Better, Wes is cautiously optimistic that he’s found some backers who might be willing to make the huge financial investment needed to take it to Broadway.

Tangled through it all is Kurt. Blaine has always had Kurt-centric super powers. Even in a crowd he knows exactly where Kurt is standing. But now he feels a constant buzz under his skin. When they catch eyes, they both look quickly away. Blaine beams at his shoes and he knows that Kurt blushes. It’s like being a teenager again. But better.

“You two are making my palms tingle,” says Carmody on the Sunday morning. “The tension is fucking adorable.”

It makes Blaine wonder how interested Carmody actually is in Kurt. Not that he would blame the guy. Kurt’s in his street clothes, long legs in skinny pants and a shirt and vest that both cover and flaunt his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He’s stunning.

Sunday’s show is sold out. The cast and crew are in their usual post-performance bubble of excitement and exhaustion and now there’s a day off. Blaine is laughing with some of the stage crew and trying not to think about Monday and Kurt and whether he’s nervous.  

“Anyone for Bar Racuda for a drink?” asks Carmody of the room. There’s some general agreement.  

Kurt unexpectedly slips in beside Blaine. Their fingers brush against one another. It steals Blaine’s breath.

“Coming Kurt?” asks Elisha. When Kurt glances at Blaine his eyes are speculative. He blinks slowly.

“I think I need to catch up on some sleep,” says Kurt turning to Elisha. “Another time?” He includes Carmody with a raised eyebrow.

“If by ‘catch up’ you mean ‘fuck’ and by ‘sleep’ you mean ‘Blaine’, of course,” says Carmody, grinning.

“Carmody! Shh.” Kurt glares at Carmody but he doesn’t move away from Blaine. Blaine thinks about saying something but Carmody just laughs and Kurt relents, with a tiny smile.

Everyone heads out. After a moment they are alone. Blaine takes Kurt’s hand in his and pulls it to his lips. He lifts his eyes to Kurt’s.

“Let me take you home tonight,” Blaine says quietly against Kurt’s knuckles.

There’s a slow breath between them.

“At this point I really don't want home to be anywhere that you're not,” says Kurt. It sings in Blaine’s heart.

Blaine closes his eyes to hold all of this inside. He pulls Kurt’s hand tight against his chest.

“Okay then. Let’s go home.”

**

 It’s a clear night. The sky was starry on the way home. When Blaine returns to the living room with drinks Kurt is leaning against the bay window with the black sky behind him.

“Hungry?”

Kurt nods. 

They sit in the window seat with pretzels and tinned peaches. Kurt shares Blaine’s fork.

“Wes looked cheerful,” says Kurt.

“He’s feeling vindicated. He placed a lot of faith in the show. And a lot of money. He won’t need to sell his apartment, now.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me that information before, I’d never have slept through the night with the added pressure.”

There’s this flicker of urgency between them yet it feels like they have all the time in the world. Blaine’s knee brushes against Kurt’s. Kurt slants a look at him.

“I’m not sure what we’re waiting for,” Kurt says. His mouth twitches into a tentative smile. His eyes are clear on Blaine’s and the intimacy in the moment takes Blaine’s breath away.  It’s like they’ve slipped back eight years. This is the first boy Blaine ever loved, only impossibly more.

“God I missed you, Kurt.”

He moves in as Kurt does. It’s more rushed than Blaine expected, and their lips and teeth are hard against one another. Blaine sweeps his tongue into Kurt’s mouth and they moan on the same breath. Blaine shifts closer, clambering forward with one knee on the window seat and his other leg on the floor between Kurt’s. He’s mostly in Kurt’s lap. Kurt’s lips move across Blaine’s jaw. He presses kisses down the column of Blaine’s neck. Blaine tilts his head back and gasps at the ceiling.

“Please,” he says. “Kurt.”

“Anything,” murmurs Kurt against his throat.

Blaine stands and pulls Kurt up with him. Kurt presses into him and walks them backwards to the bedroom. When Blaine’s legs hit the bed he stumbles a little and almost falls backwards. Kurt holds him close and kisses him until Blaine can hardly think.

“What do you want?” says Kurt and Blaine wants everything. Everything.

Blaine gasps wordlessly as Kurt slides down his body. Kurt’s eyes are fixed on Blaine’s face as he kneels. He unbuckles Blaine’s belt, unbuttons him, slides Blaine’s pants down to his knees. He holds the eye contact as he licks Blaine’s cock. Blaine shudders. Kurt holds on to Blaine’s hips to anchor him, opens his mouth and swallows around him.

“Fuck,” Blaine says. Kurt rocks onto his cock and lets his mouth fall further open. Blaine can barely stay upright. Everything is dazzling; everything is Kurt’s mouth hot and wet around him. Kurt sinks lower and angles his neck to mouth against Blaine’s balls then leans deeper, licking and pressing his tongue against Blaine’s hole. Then there is nothing more, just blind want. “Fuck,” Blaine says again, and “Kurt, I want oh god please I want you.”        

Eventually Blaine’s legs are shaking and Kurt lowers Blaine’s hips down onto the bed.

“I love it when I get you all inarticulate,” Kurt says and he might be using long words but he sounds wrecked too. 

Blaine opens his eyes to meet Kurt’s from where Kurt is kneeling between Blaine’s legs. Kurt stands and Kurt’s cock is there in Blaine’s line of sight, bulging inside his close-fitting pants.

“Stop,” says Blaine, reaching out. He’s greedy now, wants all of Kurt. He unbuttons Kurt’s pants and pulls Kurt’s cock out. “You are so gorgeous,” says Blaine and almost giggles when he realises he’s addressing Kurt’s cock. It’s tantalising. He opens his mouth and takes Kurt in, hollowing his cheeks to suck. He clutches at Kurt’s ass and pulls him closer to Blaine’s face, taking Kurt deeper inside.

Kurt gasps above him. His hips buck into Blaine as Blaine’s fingers trace his crack.

“Oh god. Please let me kiss you,” says Kurt. He sinks down onto the bed, knees between Blaine’s as their lips move together. The kiss is dirty and incredible.

Kurt moves up Blaine’s body and they shift fully onto the bed. Kurt’s tongue plunges into Blaine’s mouth and they’re mostly still dressed but it’s not just kissing, it’s fucking, it’s joining impossibly. “Kurt,” says Blaine urgently. “I can’t- I’m too close.”

Kurt is breathless. “That’s okay, baby that’s okay. I want to see you. Please come for me, sweetheart.” He wraps his long fingers around both of their cocks between them and they rut forwards, shoving harder and harder against each other and into his hand.

It’s embarrassing and exhilarating and Blaine couldn’t stop if he wanted to. “Tell me what you want to do to me,” he says.

Kurt moans. Blaine can tell he’s too far gone for embarrassment. “I’m going to spread your legs and watch you as you finger yourself open until you’re just waiting and begging for me and then I’ll fill you up and stretch you so far and you’ll love it, you’ll want it so much. You’ll be begging against my lips.”

“Please,” says Blaine raggedly and jerks forward irresistibly as he comes. Kurt shudders and cries out, sobbing.     

“Loveyouloveyouloveyou,” Blaine says brokenly against Kurt’s chest.

“So much,” says Kurt into his hair.  

 


	12. Chapter 12

When Blaine wakes it’s barely daylight. He’s on his back, Kurt’s arm heavy across his hips. Blaine turns his head to study Kurt’s face. His skin is almost translucent in the pale light.

For a time, Blaine doesn’t dare breathe. He couldn’t bear for this whole thing to dissolve. He stays as still as he can, holding his breath, relishing Kurt beside him. Of course, he isn’t ready to die from a lack of oxygen, especially not now. Eventually he needs air.

When he breathes everything is still here. Kurt is still here.

Blaine smiles toward the ceiling.

Kurt shifts closer in the bed. His eyes are still closed. “Roll over,” he says, pushing at Blaine’s shoulder lazily.

Blaine rolls where Kurt wants him, spooned warm with his back against Kurt’s front. He can feel Kurt’s erection hard against his ass.

Blaine lifts his body off the bed a little so Kurt can snake an arm under his side. Kurt’s hand runs patterns across Blaine’s chest.  His other arm wraps lower on Blaine’s hips and he reaches to stroke Blaine’s cock. Blaine arches his back. His ass presses further into Kurt. Kurt’s hips rotate against him in tiny circles. He lifts his face over Blaine’s shoulder; his breath is soft and quick against Blaine’s jawline.

Blaine looks down to where Kurt’s hand grasps his cock. Kurt keeps up a dreamy rhythm as though he’s not fully awake. He mouths softly against Blaine’s neck. Blaine can’t hold back a breathy moan. He thrusts a little into Kurt’s hand and then back against Kurt’s cock.

He feels Kurt smile against him. “Waking up, are we?” His voice is thick with sleep and sex.

“Mmmm” is about all Blaine can manage.  He reaches back for Kurt, pulling Kurt’s ass tighter against his. He lets his legs fall open. Kurt’s hand moves, now pumping rough and certain between Blaine’s thighs. Blaine shifts as Kurt moves faster. He grunts over and again. It would be awkward if he weren’t so turned on; if he couldn’t feel Kurt responding to it. Kurt thrusts harder from behind, his cock thick in the crack of Blaine’s ass.

“I’m going to need-” Kurt rolls away abruptly letting go of Blaine’s cock. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters as Blaine can’t hold back a needy groan. “Safe sex.” He hears Kurt fumbling with something behind him and rolls over to see Kurt roll a condom onto his leaking cock. He pulls the cap off some lube.

“Roll onto your back for me, sweetheart,” says Kurt as he runs his hand over his cock.

Blaine takes a steadying breath and lies back, bending his knees and propping his feet. Kurt fingers Blaine steadily, opening him up slowly. Blaine holds himself almost still and watches Kurt wide-eyed. He has no thoughts beyond Kurt, Kurt filling him. Then Kurt holds himself above Blaine’s body. Their eyes are fixed on each other as he pushes inside, devastatingly inside. Blaine gasps in pleasure and something that’s not quite pain and gives himself over to it.   

**

There’s sunlight in a bright strip across Blaine’s bed. Kurt lies on his stomach. The sheets are bundled at the foot of the bed. Kurt considers just lying here, spending the day rediscovering all the things he has ever known about this boy’s body. But this is the one day they’ll have alone for a week. They should probably talk. Kurt runs one hand across Blaine’s abs, pausing while they rest on his belly. “I find your body incredibly distracting,” he says. “All the time, really, but especially when you’re naked.”

Blaine smiles a satisfied smile that ripples through to Kurt’s toes. He loves that he created that satiated, entirely content Blaine.  

“I’d be happy to stay in bed with you all day, honey,” continues Kurt, “but I think that we should talk about this. And I don’t trust my hands when I’m in private with you.”

Blaine slides his fingers over the curve of Kurt’s ass.

“And I certainly don’t trust your hands,” says Kurt. He rolls away. Blaine groans distractingly.

“A walk and some brunch?” says Kurt. Blaine looks worried which is the last thing Kurt wants. “You have to know I’m not taking a step back here, Blaine.” Blaine smiles warily.

They walk to the local diner. Kurt figures they’ve had a lot of exercise so they could use the carbs.  

“I don’t know if we need to have this conversation,” says Kurt once they’re seated. They’re looking out over a little green park. There’s a terrier of some kind chasing a ball back and forth. “I think maybe we do.  About what happened last time.”

“Okay,” says Blaine. His eyes are soft and nervous. Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand because he can’t help it. But he thinks they need to have this conversation now, while things are new. He doesn’t want the past to bring them further things to regret.

Blaine takes a breath. “I don’t want you to be afraid that I’m going to mess up again.”

“Blaine. I don’t want you to be afraid either,” says Kurt. “We both know it wasn’t just you.” It’s the first time he’s said it aloud. “We were so young. I mean, we still are young, but we were so crazily young. It stings to think about it.” He keeps talking so Blaine doesn’t apologize. “I’m not talking about the fact that you were with someone else, Blaine. That hurt, and it’s not something I want to think about really ever, but you have to know I’ve forgiven you. I forgave you years ago. What still stings is knowing that I wasn’t as good at this as I thought I was. Sometimes I felt like the only thing I knew how to do was to love you. And then I messed that up.”

Blaine looks at him through tear-bright eyes. “Kurt-” he says.

“Don’t apologize,” says Kurt. “Please?”

Blaine smiles weakly. “Okay. But I need you to know I’ve thought about this. Not just thought about it, I’ve wrestled with it, with what I did. There is a lot I would do differently, if I have the chance again. A lot. I know myself better now and I think weirdly I know you better too. So I don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m not worried,” says Kurt. It’s true. He looks down at the table where they’re still holding hands.

“I know I’m not perfect… I’m pretty sure you are,” says Blaine. He’s only partly joking and he waves Kurt’s blushing protest off with a laugh. “You’re perfect for me anyway. So I’ll always want to be with you. But we’ll mess up again. I’ll hurt you and you’ll hurt me. We just won’t do it the same way we did the last time.”

“So you’re saying we’ll find new ways to hurt one another.”

“I’m saying we’ll find new ways to hurt one another.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Kurt is caught between tears and laughter.

“This,” says Blaine lifting their joined hands from the table, “is a good thing. The best thing. Kurt. You are it for me. And I’m going to spend every day showing you that. Okay?”

“Okay,” says Kurt. Nothing else was ever an option. “I love you,” he says and it’s simple, like singing, like breathing.

**

Blaine hums as they walk across the park.

“So, what is our plan here?” Kurt asks. He’s tucked into Blaine’s side and Blaine is dizzy with it.

Blaine considers the possibilities. All of them are pretty much breath-taking. “I thought we could stop at the corner store and make sure we have everything we need, then head home. Then… to be honest I thought you could take a long time fucking me into the mattress, or really whatever feels right, and we could just never leave.”

Kurt giggles a little. “I meant- …somewhat longer term than that.”

“Oh.” _Oh_

“Though that does sound perfect.”

“Longer term,” says Blaine contemplatively. His mind is rushing ahead to a hundred years and always Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. “Well I’m planning to love you for the rest of my life. I’d say that’s fairly long term.”

Kurt sighs. He sounds fond; he sounds exasperated and delighted. He pulls Blaine down to sit on a park bench which happens to be right there. It’s like it’s made for them.  

“And in the interim?” asks Kurt.

Blaine has already thought this through. He’s been dreaming it up for weeks, really, though rarely with much hope. Now it all bubbles cheerfully to the surface. “In the interim we’re going to Broadway. I know it’ll be some time before we get running there. But Kurt, I’m not wedded to San Francisco,” he says.

Kurt pauses. Kurt is the bravest person Blaine knows, but letting go and leaping in is hardly Kurt’s usual way of doing things.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Kurt says. Then he smiles. Blaine feels like he’s made the sun rise.

**

 

Later they’re in Blaine’s apartment. Blaine is throwing ginger and vegetables into a wok and singing something poppy. He sounds predictably delicious. He’s wiggling his ass too, in a distracting way. Kurt’s sitting on a bar stool with his legs crossed. He takes a sip of wine. The cooking doesn’t look complex but the song is one Kurt’s never heard and despite the ass wiggling it’s another way that this Blaine is new to Kurt - like the ways he’s learned to use his tongue and hands, like the guys he’s been with that Kurt’s never even seen, like the scar on his left thigh and the skill with which he writes music and the fact that he’s been to London and the green Public School shirt he’s wearing under his apron.

 

Kurt blinks away the sting of it.

 

Blaine takes the wok off the heat and looks over. “Are you okay?”

 

“I am. I’m just thinking about the things I’ve missed. I hate that I missed even a moment with you.” There’s a freedom here with Blaine, where Kurt can say all the things he feels.  

 

Blaine presses his lips together. “I know,” he says and he does know. He looks sad, and Kurt rushes to take it away.

 

“But there is an up-side.”

 

“Yeah?” Blaine puts the wok on a place mat and looks over.

 

“I get to fall in love with you for a second time.”

 

It’s sweet even though it aches. This isn’t the ever after they planned seven years ago, but it’s a kind of fairytale all the same.  

 

Blaine’s eyes are alight as he smiles, the way they’ve always been around Kurt. His gaze is older too and maybe even brighter.

 

“So the show,” says Blaine. “We’ll run for at least the month. But then- after we finish up here, I was thinking we could drive across the country together.”

 

“A road trip?” says Kurt. “I’m more-”

 

“I know. You’re more of a city boy. Mostly a New York City boy. And I love that about you. But then I thought of three weeks on our own with no timetable. We can carry clean sheets and I’ll promise you showers and cool weather everywhere we go. And sex. We’ll sing in the car. We can stop at Dollywood, and look at the stars from the desert, and we’ll visit Ohio to see your family and my family and we won’t stay anywhere that freaks you out.”

 

“We could spend three weeks together in New York,” says Kurt practically. “There’s theater there. And clean sheets. And sex.”

 

Blaine keeps his eyes fixed on Kurt’s. “But that way I can’t move my stuff across the country.”

 

“Oh,” says Kurt breathlessly. The thought simmers inside him and threatens to split his heart open. He’s still unconvinced by the idea of a road trip, but he has no doubts about where he wants Blaine.  It’s too fast but it’s also been six years in the making.

 

“Blaine. Yes.” He steps down from the stool and flings himself into Blaine’s arms. Blaine hugs him like he’s meant to be there.

 

It makes perfect sense, because he is.

 


End file.
